About the author

Murilo Vianna was born in 1991 and has lived in Australia. Nowadays he spends his time studying and writing.

About the translator

Ana Elisa Miranda is an English teacher, translator and writer. She has lived in the United States and Belgium.

Introduction

The search for solitude has always captivated that young fox. There’s no denying. With his rusty fur, pointy ears and elegant tail, he moved through the woods without looking for love, friendship, not even companions to spend time with. He was independent and, for some reason, the terms “on your own” and “do it yourself” were the only ones he could believe in.

He lived in a time when all the animals were evolved and capable of acting like human beings – they could think and talk; they wore clothes and even organized themselves as such – but the fox preferred to adopt an old-fashioned style and lived as a nomad, no sophistication. Of course he communicated with words, wore clothes and acted in a conscious manner – it was inevitable – but he held on to his anarchic ways and wasn’t able to leave his savage instincts behind in order to fit in the conventional model.

The fox didn’t abide by the rules, didn’t respect boundaries or blended in that society’s pattern. He defended the Vulpes vulpes flag tooth and nail and didn’t hesitate in doing whatever a red fox ought to do – steal, swipe, cheat. No regrets. He developed his own classicism and presented himself as a gentleman by day and a crook by night.

This was Foster, the fox who unintentionally followed the laws of the heart and broke every paradigm built by the system. With sharp wit and sarcastic touches he will, with his own words, tell us about the routine of a lying dishonest red fox.

1.

Somewhere in the green Australia, specifically in Queensland, I wandered energetic around an area full of araucaria trees. They were big, kept a height variation between fifteen and twenty meters and, observing them carefully, I noticed that they had a cone-shaped crown and a bark so rough and wrinkled as an old man’s skin. Since I don’t get along with old people – really, I have a serious problem with them – I took my eyes off the dominant trees and turned them to the side.

Living in a country of great diversity in all aspects, you may come across amazing things in the blink of an eye. Therefore, with no pretense and completely by chance, I blinked and it turned out I found a free access to a long, narrow, dry path.

I’m curious, I admit. And because of this desire to explore the unknown, I wasted no time and soon twisted my elongated body to get on that track. I swung my tail from side to side, sniffed the ground, moved my left ear and finally, as I hoped, I felt a shy shiver spreading through my body.

It might not seem true, but whenever I feel that, I end up finding something great and unexpected on the way – shelter, food, strange objects, whatever. I’m never left empty-pawed. That’s why, full of expectations, hair bristling up and feeling the frenzy rising, I wondered how awesome it would be if this time I found a hidden pirate treasure, a dinosaur fossil or maybe a document that proved that aliens existed in other galaxies.

Sweet illusion!

As I walked down the path, trees and more trees appeared, showing that I was further and further from any discovery. Not even being in the state

with the biggest vegetative growth in the country and in an essentially tropical climate – this should help somehow – there was nothing new, it was all the same.

I sat down on the ground, annoyed.

On yellowish grass I sat with my tired legs. The jeans felt heavy and my blue plaid shirt made me itch. I was in bad shape, and to make it worse, I figured out that the shy shiver wasn’t an instinctive warning; it only meant that I was beginning to starve.

“What can this land offer me, after all?” I talked to myself - because I was my best companion and I still needed answers. “There are no fruits. No leftovers. No animals with EAT ME signs hanging on their bodies. There’s absolutely nothing around here. This sucks”, I whined.

It really did. I was hungry and… for God’s sakes, wasn’t there food for me?

The right answer was that maybe there was. Anywhere, but there. So, as my only hope, I decided to turn around and try to find luck somewhere else. Incredibly when I did, an exuberant aroma filled my nostrils, intensified my cravings and made my stomach growl.

“Woohoo”, I shouted, excited that my instinct wasn’t wrong. I immediately ran south, dilated pupils and bare teeth, to see what waited for me.

The exit from that huge, exhausting path was behind the thick branches of a bush, where the night light pointed to a farm of about 2000m² down the hill. At first I noticed a pink house, sharing precious space with two old pickup trucks, a flowered garden and, most importantly, a hen house full of animals that soon would become my meal.

With short wings, small beaks and meaty crests, chicken were Foster, the Hungry Fox’s favorite meal. Thus, I proceeded proudly with my plan entitled “Operation Nuggets”.

The way down to the farm was muddy and full of ant’s nests, requiring extreme caution so that I didn’t slip and made my night a disaster. So, carefully, analyzing my every step, I made my way thinking that I’d probably have trouble invading that land.

Like all the farms in the world, I thought that that one would also have a security system, preventing the free entrance of human beings and snoopy animals like me. Electrical fences? Alarms? It could be anything. But when I got closer and only saw a one-meter-high white fence, my expectations of challenge sunk in the deep ocean and made my work much easier.

Seriously… if I could give the owner my opinion, I’d say he needs to watch some CSI episodes, because frankly, we can’t be that careless when dealing with property security. But anyway, as I was playing on the other team, the best I could do was to use my ability to jump over the fence and into the farm without any difficulty.

As I stepped on the high grass, already inside the farm limits, I tried to stay calm and silently walk to the pink house, just to be sure there was nobody waiting to ambush a chicken thief. And luckily, there wasn’t. I pried through the only curtainless window and saw that everything was where it belonged – furniture, paintings, television, rugs – everything except a peanut flavored ice cream pot left out of the fridge. But the main point was: no sign of humans. So, I went on to attack the chicken, asking myself who on earth liked that ice cream flavor.

The hen house, located more or less ten meters from the house, was built with bad quality wood planks and had a rusty roof – both having a

standard too low to be approved by PETA. Its space, on the other hand, seemed large and comfortable, accommodating many of those flightless animals. Now, aside from all these unimportant details, there was the entrance, flashing on my binocular sight, surrounded by thick wire and locked by a monstrous copper padlock.

The alternative, unfortunately, would be to dig the ground and sneak under the fence. There was no other way. Therefore, I regretted the lack of a shovel and got my own paws dirty, doing the physical labor without complaining.

In the end, I have to say it was worth it.

***

In less than five minutes, I could open a hole on the ground and get into the chicken temple. As expected at that time of night, most of the birds were already asleep in their nests and dreamt of next day’s corn meal. Others, however, were knitting blankets and chatting in whispers so that their friends didn’t wake up.

Well, the chicken went from a Buddha-like peace to the despair of hell’s dungeons. The ones who were awake stayed awake; the ones who were sleeping were awaken by the deafening noise their friends made. Fear touched their hearts.

I, believe it or not, stayed calm amidst the insanity. They ran from side to side, flapped their wings, lost some feathers and cried for help in a failed attempt. Unimpressed, I could thoroughly scan the variety of chicken at my mercy – white, brown, fat, thin… and the only thing I could think of was: “Wow! Today is your lucky day, Foster!”

Putting on a show, I jumped on them with my eyes closed, letting destiny choose the ones. As soon as I grabbed a pair of skinny brown legs and fat white wings, I declared “Operation Nuggets” a success.

Satisfied, I thought to myself how cool it would be if a cameraman from Animal Planet had recorded my performance for one of their documentaries. After all, it’s not every day that you capture chicken with this much style. But, pretty much as I had imagined, I had a tremendous surprise as soon as I left the hen house through the same hole as before. And no, it wasn’t a cameraman from Animal Planet.

White haired, thick glasses, beige dress, wrinkled face and triangle shoulders, a seventy-year old lady faced me with her evil eyes, transmitting pure hate by her facial expressions. It all indicated that she wasn’t happy to see her chicken being stolen by a fox and that was certain when I noticed the brutal presence of a rifle in her hands.

Now, on times like this when you’re face to face with a rifle, what to do? Fake a heart attack? Hope that a meteor falls on her head? Try teleporting? I had no clue. That’s why I chose a more sensible way out.

Suddenly, without thinking it through, I ran on top speed towards the pink house, expecting to find an escape route that would save me. As fast as a whip, I passed the farm owner, a rocking chair that was in the backyard and crushed a garden full of daisies. Because I regretted the latter, I thought of stopping for a few seconds and apologizing for the damaged yellow flowers. But when I looked back and saw Grandma Tough Shot getting ready to shoot, I realized it was better to be considered impolite but alive than being a dead etiquette advocate. Thus, I believe that by being detached from good manners, I could make it to the farm entrance in one piece.

The front part of that land looked like it belonged to a parallel universe, completely distorting my visual rhythm. I noticed that the house wasn’t pink, but multi-colored (or maybe the painter wasn’t paid and left in the middle of the job). The grass was cut; there was a huge wooden gate and a small fence… Well, it wasn’t a small fence anymore; it was a gigantic 3 meter high wall.

How would I use my jumping skills to get out of this one? Jumping over a tiny fence is an easy task for any old fox; now, crossing Mount Everest disguised as wall is a completely different story. I considered the alternatives, but before attempting anything, a hoarse voice yelled from a distance:

“Release the chicken, you filthy worm”, was what the sweet vengeful lady told me. At that moment I thought of replying to her zoology ignorance – since when a red fox can be confused with an invertebrate and disgusting being? Me, a worm? For God’s sake!

Anyway, I spared my comments for another occasion and focused on the moment. The old lady had her rifle pointed at my beautiful white-furred neck, staring at me without mercy. Obviously, things were not going well for me.

I looked around and saw the two chicken kicking, flapping their wings and trying with all their strength to get away from their predator’s grip. I thought to myself if that would be the end, if I’d die by the cruel shot of a rifle without even having enjoyed my last meal.

I got sad and didn’t pay attention to what the old lady was doing. What if I never felt the pleasure of hunting again? What if I never invaded a farm and caused huge damage again? Honestly, I couldn’t die so young. A three-year-old fox still had a lot to live. But around me, there seemed to be no way out.

The farm’s owner engaged her gun and aimed at me. She looked into my eyes and gave a faint smile. But before she could destroy my nice shiny brown body and get her chicken back, I felt a prick on my neck.

My head started spinning, my sight was blurred and I fell on the ground.

Passed out.

2.

Hours? Days? Months? Years? I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious. In case my biological clock could guess, it would say something around ten minutes.

It doesn’t seem much, I know, but it’s enough for the whole world to change around you, leaving you completely lost in space and full of unanswered questions.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I decided to explore my memories and try to recover certain peculiarities. With success, I remembered that a few minutes before I was face to face with a seventy-year-old crazy lady and her evil rifle, savoring my last thoughts and preparing my body to be mutilated by a .32 caliber.

After that fact however, everything turned black and as soon as I regained consciousness, I found myself somewhere unknown, lying on sheets, illuminated by a gas lamp and ventilated by Mother Nature’s air in a very well-structured fox burrow.

From the beginning, I considered the likelihood that I actually had taken the shot and gone to heaven. But as there weren’t golden gates, clouds and angels everywhere I totally rejected the idea of being in heaven. Hell, at the same time, was also hard to consider (even being a forger and a sinner) because I wasn’t paying for my sins in a giant barbecue.

Confused, I shook off the lethargy, got up from my bed and checked out what was happening. And when I found out, I admit I was quite impressed.

I was in the middle of a forest, in majestic green woods, where seven trees formed a large open circle. Tall, they shared their ramified branches and nurtured their edible seeds, being soon identified as Bunya

Pine Trees. A cozy, natural environment - it was the perfect place to raise a family of red foxes, where the cubs would play with pines and mother fox would go to the woods to get food. And then, after an exhausting hard work’s day, you would go home to enjoy your dear ones’ affection.

It looked like a perfect scenario, didn’t it?

Well, my answer would be… of course not! To Foster, the Lonely Fox, love didn’t exist and the exchange of emotions expired as fast as milk. I had been emancipated for two years and well aware of the world’s ferocity. My best choice was to cross the beautiful Queensland alone, not caring about a serious relationship between animals and places. It was inevitable. It all became simpler when I was on my own. For this reason, without objection, my heart went on independent. And on this endless journey, it was the conductor.

***

The host of the forest received me a few minutes after I returned from my unconsciousness collapse. When he appeared among the trunks, sudden as shadow, my eyes couldn’t believe what they saw.

He was exactly like me – a male red fox (Oops, hold on! Not exactly like me, you know? If we were to use comparison criteria I would certainly receive an “Australia’s most handsome and elegant Vulpes vulpes” prize. Let’s not tell lies). An old fox - probably around nine or ten years old – carried all the weight of aging on a simple walking stick. His fur was light brown, his nose was ungracious, and his tail wasn’t as fascinating as mine. His taste for clothing was also horrible, judging by his faded blue overalls and his coke-bottle glasses. Visible details aside, everything with his image seemed ok.

“Hello, mate”, was the first thing he said when he saw me. Not waiting for my greetings, he went on talking with his senile voice. “You got into a hell of a mess back in the farm, huh?! You could be a coat by now”.

“From a renowned brand in the fashion world?”, I asked out of curiosity.

The elderly fox chose not to answer, probably because he didn’t notice sarcasm in my joke. Instead, with a doubtful expression on his face, he found balance on his cane, walked up to me slowly and sniffed my nice white and blue plaid shirt.

“I think it’s polyester”, I joked again. “Light and comfortable. I totally recommend this kind of fabric”.

“My name is Foster”, I said, forcing a smile and stepping back to offer him my five-digit paw as a greeting.

Without any hesitation he politely returned the gesture. He swung his tail and greeted me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Foster. Everyone here calls me Grandpa Knowledge.” I looked around. There was no one. So I stopped and reasoned for a while.

Grandpa Knowledge? Really? Forgive my honesty, but if one day I have such a ridiculous nickname you can be sure I’ll be busy preparing to suicide. Calling an old fox that way should be considered a crime, an outrage, a low offensive act against the elderly.

“Mmmm… Grandpa Knowledge… cool name”. That’s what came out of my mouth. Now that I think about it, maybe I wasn’t very convincing, considering the awkward silence that followed.

The fox in front of me wasn’t resentful and, alternating sobs and heavy breathing, he moved to the next burrow with difficulty and came back with a dozen apples. Red, juicy apples.

“Here”, he said, throwing one at me. “I suppose you’re hungry. After all, a fox doesn’t face a rifle to get some chicken every day, right, mate?!”

Undoubtedly, I got closer, nodded and devoured the delicious fruit.

“You have to watch out, mate”, Grandpa Knowledge went on, while I chewed non-stop. “Some farms might seem harmless at first sight, but on the first distraction… Bang! Bang! You’re dead”.

How audacious of him to advise me like that! Foster, the Swift Fox should watch out? Can someone tell me who died and made him master in the art of robbery?

“I don’t mean to be rude, sir”, I firmly said. “But I’ve been in this business for a long time. I’m an expert in breaking into farms and stealing food. I’m the John Dillinger of the forests. I don’t need your advice, ok?!”

And then, before he could contradict me with weak argumentation, I took two apples from my pockets. Two apples I swiped and he didn’t even notice.

“Wow! How fast!”, Grandpa Knowledge pretended to be impressed by seeing the fruit in my hands. “I should have imagined, Foster always has the situation under control. “Faced with a rifle bullet which exceeds 400km/h, a whole amazing escape plan was written in your mind. So we, poor fellows, underestimated your intellect and gave unnecessary help”.

How reckless!

“Indeed”, I said impatient. “Completely unnecessary”.

“My fellow fox”, the decrepit animal continued. “You don’t have to be so proud. Here in our place, that we call the Tree Den, we all help each other without asking anything in return. You don’t need to resist our kindness… we only want to see the continuity of species, no matter which one. So when we see an animal in conflict with a human being, help from the Tree Den is unconditional”.

As he finished his inspirational speech, I thought over the possibility of Grandpa Knowledge being some kind of animal reincarnation of Mother Theresa of Calcutta. He was so generous and altruistic… why the hell wasn’t he ever awarded a Nobel Peace Prize? Even Foster, the Biggest Fool of Oz, was granted his holy kindness.

“This is not right. Animals joining forces to end human oppression?” I continued, gently winking my right eye. “This only creates animal hierarchy, rules and systems identical to the humans’”.

“You’re…”, he tried to speak, but I interrupted.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but that’s exactly what you’re doing. This so called Tree Den… well, it’s just a service provider NGO, whose name matches the woods and the Bunya pine trees perfectly. But you know what?”, I took a breath, “I don’t need your social services. I don’t need you to save me. So when you see me face to face with a rifle, please let me die”.

And then I finished exposing my opinion, thinking that maybe I’d been too radical with my words. Grandpa Knowledge was just an old guy who liked to help animals in need and, obviously, shouldn’t be forced to hear barbarities from a dysfunctional red fox as Foster.

Honestly, what could I do about it? Chocolate cake as an apology? A redemption poem?

I chose to just shut up.

“Foster”, he continued. “I understand your point of view, mate. I understand your craving for an independent life”, he coughed a few times. “But I want you to know that, despite all your effort, you’ll never be able to disconnect completely. Human beings, animals… we all comply with our respective systems, and so do you!”

“Not true”, I instantly replied. “I’m not part of anything. I live in anarchy”.

“Anarchy is also a system”, Grandpa Knowledge dared to say. “The fact that you’re against any kind of government and hierarchy already makes you the follower of an ideal. And this ideal, therefore, is a system”.

I had already lost his train of thought. Order, the absence of coercion… all this issues made me uncomfortable. That’s why I concluded that the best I could do was to lift my ears, make a doubtful face and stay in sweet silence.

“You must be wondering where I’m going with this”, he continued. And I was. That’s why I nodded. And his voice wavered for a moment. “The Tree Den fights tirelessly to end human cruelty on animals – fur trade, scientific experiment, food industry – we want to end it all. This way, taking small steps, we’re united to make our own revolution”.

And I kept staring at him, waiting for more direct reasons.

“Foster”, he said, looking into my eyes. “Our next step is to invade a land that belongs to the Australian Government. We want to destroy what they’re doing there. And as I’ve noticed you have this unique, wild way, you could be of great use to our revolt. Now I ask you, do you want to help us destroy the humans’ system?”

The answer I blurted out was: “Huh?”

3.

The Tree Den, as I said before, was the perfect place to consider home. Cozy, with easy access and a huge variety of food around, there lived not only Grandpa Knowledge but two other animals that shared the idea of extinguishing human totalitarianism.

Whitish, red-eyed and as monstrous as Slot from The Goonies, the two animals were what we called rats. From my point of view, however: freaks of nature. Identical, probably for being twins, they were both all muscle and wore black clothes – tight pants and turtle neck shirts.

“We’re Joel and Thomas”, one of them said when they saw me next to Grandpa Knowledge. I didn’t know who was who, but I forced a smile and tried to be as nice as possible.

“Cool”, I answered, uninterested.

“They are the ones who saved your life, mate”, Grandpa intruded. “When the farmer was about to shoot, Thomas used a blow dart with tranquilizer”, he said proudly. “So when you passed out, Joel volunteered to bite our sweet lady’s leg”.

“I’m sorry”, I meant it. “I reckon a leg full of varicose veins tastes nothing like Swiss cheese”.

Undoubtedly, the rodents nodded and laughed at my well placed assumption. When they cracked their lips into laughter, I noticed there was something out of context in that image… two frightful but cheerful animals? I’m sorry, but it’s the same as seeing Freddy Krueger drinking caipirinhas while on holiday in Brazil, you know? Some things have to follow their natural laws. So if you’re a horrifying, frightening rat, please don’t smile, just make an angry face and be mean.

Grandpa Knowledge, unlike Joel and Thomas, had a pleasant face and remained serious, staying out of any subject that involved dairy products. Observing the Tree Den with his black eyes, he must have been thinking about what he could do so that I would finally accept invading the government’s land with them.

“Foster”, said the fox, ruining the fun atmosphere. “Did you know that around four years ago, when I found this Den, my life changed completely?”

Obviously, I didn’t. And obviously, that question was ridiculous. I didn’t even make an effort to answer it.

“Before, I had a family”, Grandpa started. “It was me, my lady and four cubs living in a comfortable burrow on the limits of the Northern Territory. We had food, fun, and most importantly, each other’s company. Then, on a rare rainy day with thunder and lightning, we all went out to have fun in the forest”.

The rats looked at each other, knowing where the story was going.

“We played with sticks on the muddy ground, we threw fruit at each other… we had a happy day. But on the way home as we crossed a large open field I heard a shot coming from east”, he was emotional. “When I turned to see what had happened, one of my little ones was lying on the ground, dead and covered in blood”.

“Grandpa…”, I tried to interrupt.

I didn’t feel like listening to sad stories and I wasn’t eager to share depressing feelings with the old fox. Unfortunately, the whole story had a complex purpose that I couldn’t decipher yet. Grandpa Knowledge wouldn’t give up.

“Can you imagine how I felt? All I could think of was catching the murderer who took my son’s life”, he said resentfully. “From about twenty meters, he pointed a gun at my family with no sign of remorse. He was fat, had brown hair and a thick beard and scorned at the situation as he got ready to shoot again, forgetting all about compassion”, he sobbed. “And then, furious and helpless, I ran as fast as I could towards the hunter. I jumped on his neck, scratched him with my paws, did the best I could to make him suffer and regret. As I finished with him and looked back, I saw my family lying on the ground, shedding their blood on a field dirty with inhumanity… Can you understand, Foster? I was so thirsty for revenge that I completely forgot what was happening around me. I didn’t hear the other shots, ignored my family’s cries for help. I was blind with hate and that can’t happen”.

“Ok”, I answered politely. “But Mr. Knowledge, what do I have to do with this?” And as soon as I asked that, I regretted.

Instead of keeping quiet and putting an end to that story, I encouraged my fellow fox and let him proceed with his endless speech. Unfortunately, that made me the target of a story as long as the Bible. And frankly, I never had the patience to read the holy book (forgive me, God).

“Mate”, he said fixing his thick glasses. “I’m just trying to say that, when we yield to our savage instincts we lose track of everything that’s going on around us. And observing your uncivilized way, your desire to continue in opposition… Brother, this will bring you serious problems one day. You’ve got to balance reason and instinct, whether you want it or not”.

Still confused, I tried to understand what the point of our conversation was.

Ultimately, what did the death of his family have to do with all this? Would a sad story facilitate the conversion of Foster, the Untamable Fox?

I’d say… no! It wouldn’t. But either way, I was kind enough and listened to a dismayed old chap.

“We’re rational beings, Foster”, Grandpa Knowledge continued. “We have eyes to see, ears to listen, mouth to eat, brain to think. We build families, share feelings, know love and help each other. Together, we’re capable of changing the world. Alone, we can’t even move a feather”.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve moved much bigger things than a feather”. I gave my humble opinion.

He firmly insisted, not listening to me. “You want to rob farms, indulge your dishonest impulses and further, you want to make the ones who bother you miserable, don’t you? But you know what? You’ll never be satisfied without a defined purpose”, then he turned to Joel and Thomas and their red eyes. “These guys here”, he said tapping their muscular shoulders. “They’ve found their purpose”, and he looked into my eyes. “I’ve found my purpose. Have you found yours, Foster?”

Hypnotized by his speech, I lowered my ears, bowed and shook my head.

Grandpa Knowledge walked up to me with his walking stick, passing slowly by the twins, dragging his blue overalls on the low grass. As convincing as Al Pacino, he looked deep into my eyes, lifted his ears and his tail and gave me an annoying smile.

“The Tree Den can give you a purpose, mate. Now I ask you: are you ready for it?”

4.

I wasn’t ready. Under pressure from Grandpa Knowledge, Thomas and Joel, I realized that the best would be to turn my back and leave the Tree Den forever. Foster, the Blessed Fox, giving up his life to join the revolution? Shame on me, but such idea was as insane as a black guy being invited for an afternoon tea with Ku Klux Klan members. Total nonsense!

Over my three years of existence, living on the edge of society, I cared only about what I’d eat, where I’d sleep and, the most entertaining, who I was going to sabotage. Paradigms existed to be broken, not followed. Therefore, the proposal to bring down the system along with three organized animals didn’t seem anything but a huge stupidity.

If you want change, do it yourself.

***

Paved on solid structure, a two-way road stretched out less than a kilometer from the Tree Den and served cars, trucks, motorcycles or any other kind of transportation (in my case, four-digit back legs).

Walking along the left side of the road, with the heat exploding in the atmosphere, I decided that my next step would be finding something to drink. My throat was dry, my body was dehydrated and my head felt like it was going to blow up like TNT. A fox who needs to feel well to guarantee the effectiveness of his unlawful acts can’t be careless.

I used my amazing listening skills – I was able to hear from 700 to 3000 hertz. I lifted my ears and hoped I’d hear the sound of running water nearby. Whether it was a lake, a waterfall or even a simple tap. I only needed to quench my thirst with countless liters of hydrogen oxide, chemically speaking.

Not as expected, though, I only managed to hear footsteps.

More or less sixty meters from where I was – judging by my fail proof math – an animal walked gently through the woods, beyond the road. And since I’m the greatest eavesdropper on earth, I got off the road and into the forest to check out what waited for me.

Behind a brown trunk of Coastal Bunksia, I hid and quietly waited. After all, the hiker could be carrying a water canteen and Foster might benefit from a quick swiping move. And then, once in sight, my mind suffered some kind of short-circuit and I could not concentrate anymore.

Carrying a basket full of fruit and wearing an impeccable yellow dress, the slow hiker was easily the most divine creation on planet Earth. Sculpted by God’s hands, with hypnotizing tail, delicate nose and bright small eyes, I couldn’t deny that my heart skipped a beat when I saw her. She was a lovely red fox, capable of turning the rebel burglar into a fool who lost all sense of reality.

But what an incredible female!

Exotic, she contrasted the whole forest with her intense red, spreading grace wherever she went.

Only conclusion: I watched her with eyes wide open, losing the focus on my purpose. Then, like a drunk after a few shots of tequila, I stumbled to the side and bumped into a fallen branch, making such a noise that revealed me right away.

“Is anyone there?”, she asked with her mermaid voice, seducing me and trying to see who the spy was.

Removing the small leaves that stuck to my plaid shirt, I clumsily got out from behind the tree, trying to show as much elegance as possible.

“Wow, wow, wow”, I said as I got closer, slowly swaying my tail. “My name is…” and my voice trailed in anxiety.

“My name is Foster. I was trying to find some mangoes around here”.

She looked me up and down, from head to toe.

“I doubt you’ll find mangoes in this place”, was what the goddess of red foxes told me. And because she didn’t introduce herself, I thought of asking what her name was, whether she’d been looking for a boyfriend or wanted to run away to Fiji with me. But as I thought it through, I realized it would be too forward, even for Foster, the Naughty Fox.

“Ok”, I replied. “I think that… well, maybe I should start looking somewhere else”.

Dry and straightforward, she nodded and was back on her way, taking slow steps and leaving me not even a slight hope of creating bonds for the rest of our lives.

Auspicious, I found courage, took a breath into my whitish chest and went after the most amazing female Vulpes vulpes in Australia.

Following her through the woods I began to think that all this time I had the opportunity to meet (all too well) several beautiful and elegant foxes. All over Oz, I had one-night encounters, enjoyed them greatly and had good experiences. However, being an explorer nomad in Queensland I never wanted to prolong Cupid’s work – sticking my heart with arrows poisoned with lust and passion. I would just walk away without much ado. However, now everything seemed to be turning upside down. There was a female and I wanted to seduce her but… Foster, where is your desire to break her heart in little pieces and leave with no explanation?

I didn’t know how to respond. Therefore, I let my instinct speak.

The female was already far ahead of me, even walking at the speed of a baby tricycle. Quickly, I kept some space between us and by a lucky strike of destiny I found a Passiflora aurantia bush along the road, its orange completely in evidence.

Remorseless and disrespectful to Greenpeace laws I picked up a flower and ran towards the fox.

“Hey!”, I called as I was closer. She turned and looked at me. “Hold on, I have a gift for you”.

Expressionless, she continued looking at me with an unfriendly face.

“Here”, I said as kindly as I could, handing her the Passiflora aurantia on my right paw. “This flower represents Australian passion. Very beautiful, isn’t it?”

For a brief moment I could see a smile emerging on her delicate face. Embarrassed, she lightly lowered her ears and nodded, keeping my gift in the only pocket of her dress.

“Thank you. It’s a pretty flower”, she replied, allowing me to go up on her strict rank.

“I’m glad you liked it”, I continued. “Now, I don’t want to be inconvenient, but can I ask what your name is?”

As she looked deep into my eyes, she made me feel as lost as Waldo in his books. She let my anxiety reach its peak, just to tease me. When she saw I exuded curiosity, she answered my question simply and straight.

“Annabel”.

Ah… Annabel, what a beautiful name! It represented a competitive mind, will power and originality. There was nothing that matched her

better. That red fox was definitely taking over Foster, the Bright-Eyed Fox’s heart with her unique, different way. Speechless, I sighed ecstatic.

“Annabel. Beautiful name… now let me help you carry your basket”, I insisted. “It’s too hot, I’m sure you’re tired. It’s not easy to go fruit picking with this heat, am I right?”

In response, I imagined she would thank me for being so kind, kiss me warmly and tell me she loved me unconditionally. In case that really happened, Tarantino directing the scene, I bet the movie would be a box office success. But of course, opposing my rich imagination, Annabel only acknowledged my effort and said she didn’t need any help.

Saddened, I lowered my tail to the ground and pretended I was fine.

“Ok”, I replied naturally. “But if I were you, I’d start hunting later at night. Australia has a gaping ozone layer hole. Being too exposed to the sun like this can be harmful for your health”, I said like a know-it-all scientist, trying to impress her with my intelligence.

“Actually, that’s only valid for humans”, she opposed. “We, furry animals, are already used to the temperatures of the place we live in. It’s not like we need sunscreen to be protected. It’s in our genes. We’d only suffer with the heat if there were extreme overnight climate changes”.

“Darwin’s theory”, I tried to change the subject so that I wouldn’t seem so stupid for her. “You’re right. It’s natural selection happening. Every generation has their genetic heritage put to the test by the environmental conditions”.

“Right”, Annabel said with a sweet smile, demonstrating great interest for scientific matters. Taking note of that strange taste, I almost started elaborating on Einstein, Isaac Newton and Stephen Hawking, just to show off.

“But hey”, I said, knowing I had nothing to lose. “Regardless of the sun or anything, give me your basket, I’m a gentlefox”, I lied openly. “I can’t let you carry all this by yourself”.

Not having any arguments left to discuss, she stretched out her tender paw and handed me the basket.

“You really are persistent. But you should know we are about twenty minutes from my house”, she said. When I recalled the speed of her steps, I knew she must have been a bit modest in her time perspective. Twenty minutes times thirty, she meant.

“Tell me”, I was curious. “Where do you live?”

Passing by the brownish trees, leaves and sticks on the ground, she innocently replied. However, even though it seemed obvious in the context, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised.

“The Tree Den”, she said. “That’s the name of the place”.

5.

Two doors. One choice. Pride or passion?

Pride, already ingrained in my feelings for years, built my character on solid base, making me who I really was that day.

Rebel fox, self-love defender and detached from other animals’ opinions, my selfish design only brought me good results, allowing my solitary life to become an endless and extraordinary experience.

Passion, on the other hand, still resembled the Pythagorean Theorem to me. Complicated and exhausting, the mathematical relationship between two hearts made no sense to Foster, Geometry’s Adversary. And then, to balance the facts, there was Annabel, making every equation much more charming.

I was confused.

Not long ago, at the same Tree Den, Grandpa Knowledge asked me to join his group for animal rights defense. They’d destroy the system built by humans in an organized way. Disgusted, I ignored the old fox’s speech and left him and the twin mice, not even caring about their feelings. Now, as if the world turned the other way on purpose, I find out that female is also part of the revolutionary fellowship and, if I stayed around, faking good intentions and helping the cause… winning over her fox heart wouldn’t be impossible, I’d only have to use my acting techniques, Marlon Brando style.

Given the circumstances, which door should I choose? Follow my undefined destiny, being loyal to my tradition? Or maybe, who knows, choose redemption, go back and accept Grandpa Knowledge’s proposal?

Pride or passion?

I chose to be sure before answering. The same certainty that a suicidal has before killing himself. That’s why just before getting to the Tree Den’s entrance I gave the basket back to Annabel and said that I had to leave or I’d be late.

“Late for what?”, she asked, curious. Because I didn’t have an explanation for that stupid lie, I only winked – believe me, if I had a time machine I’d go back to fix that defamatory act.

Indifferent, Annabel thanked my generosity, turned around and went home, fixing a small crease on her yellow dress. I, watching her go into the woods, took a deep, numb breath and murmured: “That fox is amazing!”

***

I found an abandoned burrow three hundred meters from the Tree Den. Comfortable enough and facing a moss-green lake, it was the perfect place for me to eat, take my regular baths and, moreover, stay close to Annabel.

On my first day, however, I preferred to stay alone and enjoy my isolation exactly as prisoners do – I ran around the lake, climbed tress, played with stones – and even having a productive day, my mind couldn’t stop thinking about that red fox.

Magnetic eyes, unquestionable charm, the looks of a goddess… Holy Christ, what was happening to Foster, the Heart Breaker? Was I, in the remotest chance, discovering my heart beat?

***

Three days later I thought it would be a good idea to make an appearance where Annabel and the other unimportant animals lived. Just

for a friendly hello and to gain some points on my favorite Vulpes vulpes’ list.

Without a second thought, I checked my breath, straightened my plaid shirt and jeans and left toward the Den, Neil Armstrong Style (no rocket or space suit, of course). Like the moon, would Annabel’s heart be conquered or forever a conspiracy?

I had to know the truth. So, even though I wasn’t prepared, I crossed the forest to my destination. Contorted trees, flowers of different shades, butterflies and little bugs - Nature’s variety in those woods was impressive. Unfortunately, my thoughts were far away and everything around me went unnoticed. I could only think of what I’d encounter in a few minutes, at the Tree Den.

As I got closer and could see the circle of Bunya Pine Trees, I positioned myself accordingly and walked to the entrance with no haste. But then, before meeting up with my old friends and against all my expectations, I saw something really strange happening there. I hid behind a fallen tree and observed.

Breaking all the rules of the food chain, Grandpa Knowledge was sitting on the ground, leaning his back on a tree and calmly chatting with seven red cardinals. That’s right, seven juicy, mouthwatering birds!

At first, I thought he was probably setting up a trap for our prey, being a good host only to attract the little birds… and then, unexpectedly, he would jump on them, as a real bloodthirsty fox, covering his face with feathers. But as I paid attention to his body language I noticed there was no intention of attack. Not even one sign – his body was relaxed, his ears were low and his tail as still as the Uluru – what led me to the unfortunate conclusion: Grandpa actually enjoyed the company of our menu.

Astonished, I decided to do something.

Hungry eyes, mouth salivating – I knew I couldn’t lose control. Running and attacking the cardinals would create a very embarrassing situation in that peaceful Den. So in order not to disappoint, I took a deep breath, stayed calm, got out from behind the tree and into the Tree Den, managing to control my impulses.

“Look who’s back”, Grandpa Knowledge said with his hoarse voice when he saw me coming. “Mate, I don’t want to be annoying”, but he was. “But I knew you would show up again”.

Bored to death, I forced a small grin with my eyes closed. Once I opened them again I looked around and tried to find a sign of Annabel.

“Joel, Thomas and Annabel are not here”, the fox said as if he could read my mind, with some kind of Jedi technique. “It’s only me and the cardinals here”, he said looking at the birds. “By the way, these are Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La and Ti”.

“Mmmm”, was the sound I made, with lively looks and trying to show as much interest as possible. “Cardinal birds named after musical notes. So original”.

Then, noticing some instinctive sign from my body, Grandpa Knowledge turned to the cardinals, said something I couldn’t hear and, without goodbyes, the birds flew to the top of a distant tree leaving me and Grandpa alone.

“Foster”, the fox of advanced age said, looking at me and shortening the space between us with the help of his cane. “Before anything else, I must clear out some rules with you”, and he continued after his routine sobbing. “The Tree Den has a basic principle, so pay attention”.

As demanded, I gave him all my attention.

“Animals don’t kill animals. Animals respect animals”, Grandpa Knowledge said with an authoritarian tone, making a dramatic pause. “I saw the way you looked at the cardinals, I understand your craving. But here at the Tree Den we have to always control ourselves”, he paused to take a breath. “All the animals are united to fight one evil… human abuse, mate. If we keep our primitive eating habits we’ll be fortifying what we want to destroy. Can you understand?”

I couldn’t. But still, I nodded just to try and abbreviate the chatty old man’s speech.

“It’s all about habit, tradition and convenience”, he continued. “It’s all about self-satisfaction, my friend. But if you want to know, we can survive on fruit and vegetables. We don’t need to kill other animals to live well, to be healthy. That’s why when we saved you from the farmer and her rifle, the first thing we did was freeing the chicken you had stolen”, he revealed, making me indignant. “They deserve to live, as much as we do. So if you want to stay at the Tree Den, you’ll have to follow the rules”.

Honestly, I don’t know what Grandpa Knowledge expected from me. I didn’t want to live there and I certainly didn’t want to break my eating pattern. My only intention was, as a matter of fact, to win Annabel’s heart. If I succeeded, the future was still a mystery in a crystal ball. Would I end up on a steady relationship? Would I leave and break her heart? Would we act on a low class – low budget movie?

I had no idea. The truth is that Foster is an impulsive fox. He wants what he wants, when he wants it. There are no plans, no detours. It’s all a straight and radical shot, like on Clint Eastwood’s movies.

“Grandpa Knowledge”, I started. “I still…”

“Foster?”, a voice coming from behind cut me. By the sweet tone, I knew who it belonged to. Thrilled but without hesitation, I turned to welcome that wonderful fox.

“Hey, Annabel”, I spoke in a friendly way. And not to be rude, realizing she was accompanied by Joel and Thomas, I greeted them too. “Hi, identical rats”.

“We’re not identical. If you look closer, Joel has a small scar above his right eye”. Said Thomas, presumably, making me check such an important detail – which I forgot all about after thirty seconds.

It was inevitable. As much as I wanted to listen to Grandpa Knowledge, Joel and Thomas, my conscience made sure to create a block to ignore them. To my acute ears it was all “blah, blah, blah”. Within my sight there was only Annabel. Everything that wasn’t her became simple scenario – meaningless and expandable.

“But tell me, Foster”, the extraordinary fox continued, leading the situation with her infinite charm. “What brings you to the Den?”

As I should have expected, I didn’t have time to reply.

“Our friend here”, Grandpa Knowledge interrupted as fast as a derailed train. “Well, I think he came to join us. I can even see the flame burning in his chest, ready to consume the predatory human system, right Foster?”

The fact is that I wasn’t there to join them. Not at all. But once I looked at Annabel and found a little sparkle of hope in her eyes, I couldn’t resist. I knew how my help would be important for her. So to avoid

letting her down I nodded and joined the revolution, not even knowing what would happen from that moment on.

6.

The first week’s stay at the Tree Den felt like an endless endurance test. Like a crack addict in a rehab center, I had to learn to say no to everything that made me feel alive – animals in my meals, stealing, rebelling – nothing was allowed. Time passed by slowly and within that circle I could only see my life becoming a dull, predictable play.

It was always the same, day in and day out. The Den’s residents woke up, went out to pick their fruit and vegetables, plotted attacks and trained and trained and trained a bit more – tirelessly. At the end of the day, as tired as a construction worker after a fifteen-hour shift, the animals were allowed to go back to their burrows, rest, get up and start it all over again.

A maddening routine. And clearly for Foster, the Fiery Fox, none of it fit his way of living.

I needed more. More discoveries, more adventures, more infinite. Convinced of my needs, I got up the following Sunday, left my burrow and came to a conclusion.

For the second time in such a short span, I was leaving. Ears up, back and tail straightened, I took off the Tree Den before I could even explore my Don Juan techniques. No female deserved my sacrifice.

Unfortunately, though, things didn’t go as I planned.

“Where are you going?”, a sleepy voice asked, preventing my big exit act.

I looked back. It was Annabel. She was sitting on one of the pines’ trunk, with a face that said “I still need to sleep fifty years, but here I am

because I need to”, fixing a detail on her yellow dress and watching me carefully, ready to take her conclusions.

“Are you going away, Foster? Are you leaving us?”

“Well, I…”, my voice trailed off. It was hard to think fast at that time of day. Especially with Annabel – the only red-fox that could take my breath away – staring me with that sweet furious expression on her face.

“I should have imagined… you’re just an idiot who came here to take advantage”, she said, disappointed and not entirely wrong. “What were you looking for? Easy food? A comfortable burrow to spend some nights in?”

It wasn’t just that. But judging by my history, I didn’t have much to say for myself. Before I could explain her the real reason for my stay in the woods, Grandpa Knowledge came out like a ninja and started talking nonsense.

“Well done, my friend! Well done”, he told me as he clapped his paws, and looked at Annabel, sending a message I couldn’t grasp. He then turned back to me. “Now you’re ready to fight with us and defeat our biggest enemy”.

I stood there silent, waiting for more explanation. I didn’t know what was going on and who our biggest enemy was. And then, to confuse me even more, Thomas and Joel came out of their burrows and joined the group. Everyone was staring at me, eager to see what my reaction would be.

“What’s happening”, I couldn’t help but ask. “Is this some kind of illegal satanic cult? Can somebody tell me?”

They laughed.

“The whole week was a test”, the old fox continued. “I needed to know how far your savage instincts would give in. and you know what, mate? I’m surprised you lasted more than three days”.

“I thought he would attack one of the cardinal birds”, added Thomas. And honestly, so did I. But at such moment I preferred to keep that to myself.

“Foster”, Grandpa insisted on his boring speech. “I can see your desire for freedom. I can see you can’t take defense, attack or resistance practice anymore. I can see you want to leave. I know it. But when the time comes mate, when we’re face to face with our opponent, you’ll radiate adrenaline that you’ve never felt before. Believe me… it’s addictive! Your heart races, you get goose bumps, your eyes burn. That’s why I tell you for sure: you’ll miss out on the best feeling in case you turn your back on us.”

Before I could call everybody names and leave, Annabel came down with such glamour and in a completely unexpected act, whispered in my ear: “It’s true. You’ll miss out on the best feeling in the whole world”.

I didn’t question her. I just put on a doubtful look on my face, allowing her to explain.

“I was exactly like you, Foster”, the pretty fox told me. “I lived with my parents, according to the patterns that were being built. However, deep inside my biggest dream was to be emancipated and to know all of the Australian territory – North, South, East and West”.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“My parents suffered from arthritis. I couldn’t be so selfish as to leave them helpless”, Annabel said, gracefully moving her ears. “I had to spend my first two years taking care of them, day after day, just to make

sure they’d be alright”, she looked up. “But when both of them were gone, I felt I had to go after my old dream”.

I continued listening. Unlike Grandpa’s stories, Annabel’s were worth listening to.

“And so I ran off”, she said, excited. “I went so fast toward the podium that, carelessly, I got caught by a hunter’s trap in a tropical forest here in Queensland. Then, I was taken to an animal farm and waited on death row”.

“You’re not dead”, I made that clear, in case she didn’t know. “Unless you’re a zombie fox, of course”.

Annabel laughed at my joke - the sweetest thing - and continued talking, while the other animals sat on the green grass and talked among themselves.

“No, I didn’t die… Thanks to Grandpa Knowledge”, she said grateful. “I was locked away with dingoes, dogs, cats - all waiting to be poisoned. But then Grandpa Knowledge came, like a hero with a cane and blue overalls, and freed us from that animal prison”. Annabel got closer again, making me think on how funny it would be if Batman wore overalls. She continued. “From that day on, there was nothing else I could do to thank him other than helping him fight the war against humans”.

“Wouldn’t a simple thank you do?” I joked, making her look at me in total disapproval.

“Foster, I wanted to help Grandpa Knowledge”, and she emphasized the verb want. “After being caught, I understood how the human mind works. I was outraged. I couldn’t just cross my arms and let animal abuse happen”.

“We didn’t ask you to join us. This was never our purpose”, Grandpa joined. “But being an anarchist animal, as you said yourself, I can imagine your revolt against the mass, your disagreement with the power holders”, he paused so that I could reflect on that. “Human beings hold all power. In addition to having all kinds of prejudice – like racism and sexism – they created speciesism”.

I doubted. I didn’t even apologize for my ignorance, but I followed their explanation.

“Humans think they’re superior, that their species is more worthy of respect than all the others”, the fox looked straight at me. “With that kind of thought, they think they can abuse, torture, kill and do anything with the animals. But that’s not right. We have to show them that’s not right. We’re living beings”.

As I could notice, all the animals over there were trying to corrupt me with their ideas, leading me, little by little, to follow the correct parameters at the Tree Den – they told their stories, gave life lessons. It was a crazy brainwashing. Everything so that I felt more comfortable. Even Annabel, the most delicate fox on Earth, had to open her memories and share her stories to try to convert me.

That made me think.

Grandpa Knowledge – supposedly – had also saved me (but from an old lady, that was more embarrassing). Annabel joined him after being saved from the hunter. Well… I wonder if I should do the same.

If the answer was positive, I would unfortunately disappoint hearts. Grandpa Knowledge could have saved me from the depths of a tornado, from the Lake Ness monster, whatever… my pride would never allow such an act of thanksgiving. I would never join.

“My friend”, Grandpa Knowledge came closer with the help of his cane, leaning on the central tree. “So that you also know, the hunter who captured Annabel is a very powerful man. Maybe the most powerful man in Queensland. Few animals managed to escape his farm. Therefore, with the ambition to change that, he’ll be our next target”, he paused to inhale.

“At his place, with the State’s incentive, he exploits animals, develops research and, as if it wasn’t enough, he uses the 1080 poison to control the population of foxes, like us. And you know how fierce this poison is, don’t you mate?”

Once again, I didn’t know. Actually, I didn’t want to. As usual, Grandpa started talking without asking my opinion.

“Picture a long and painful death”, he looked into my eyes. “Picture yourself screaming, vomiting, convulsing violently…”.

“Like the junkies at rave parties?”, I asked trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

“This is serious, Foster”, Annabel interfered, not finding my joke funny. “Many countries banned the use of 1080. Brazil for example, prohibited its use in 1982”, she finished and Brazil was automatically on my “best countries to live” list.

“Here in Australia, mate, things are different”, added Grandpa Knowledge, merging his sentences perfectly with Annabel’s. “Using the excuse that the native species need to be preserved, the Government not only allows, but it encourages the use of 1080 on our land. Red foxes, sheep, pigs, rabbits, dingoes… thousands of animals suffer daily with this cruelty in the name of population control that could be well done otherwise”.

“Population control, my ass!”, Joel yelled from behind, still sitting with his brother near their burrow. “We’re rational animals. We know what we’re doing. We don’t need humans telling us how to manage our dissemination”.

“Yes, I agree”, Annabel said. “After all, none of us tell a human couple how many children they should have, right? This is insane!”

“But that’s not the question, Annabel”, the old fox imposed. “In the system created by the humans, nothing is done as it should. It’s all about money, profit. Thus, if it’s more economically viable to use 1080 to annihilate animal populations, you can be sure they won’t think twice. The human race is moved by figures in their bank accounts. That’s what we fight. That’s why we’re at war. That’s why we have enemies”.

Amid that serious debate involving economy, revolution and social class distinction, the only thing I managed to do was nodding. I had no information; I didn’t know what really happened out there. In my universe, it had always been Foster versus the World. God always took care of the rest; I never had a specific opponent.

“Who exactly is this guy you intend to fight?” I asked, searching for clarification. “I mean, I know he works with the government and he’s as evil as Hitler, but I have no idea who he might be”.

Looking at me like the Devil’s Advocate, Grandpa Knowledge came to me slowly, took a mango from his overalls pocket, bit it and started talking, mouth full: “The coward’s name is Noah Jeferson Wright, mate. Will you help us stop him?”

7.

The agreement between the Tree Den residents and I was limited by my own wish.

Although I had made it clear before, I told everyone again that abandoning my life and being part of the Revolutionary Animals Team was out of question. Obeying rules, reporting to someone, living under command… not a chance. That wasn’t for me. Not at all. On the other hand, loyal to my authenticity, I was excited with the idea of invading evil Noah’s farm. After all, it would be another adventure on Foster, the Fearless Fox’s résumé.

So without further ado, I agreed to help them under some conditions.

“First, I’m on my own and I’ll act as I always have”, I told Grandpa Knowledge as he finished eating his mango. “I don’t want to know your plan, I don’t want to know what day the attack is, I don’t want to know anything about the 1080. That doesn’t interest me. The only thing is: I’m going to break the enemy’s security system and terrorize everyone”.

“Foster, I’ve been at that farm and it isn’t…”, Annabel tried to speak, but I cut her short.

“In that case, I think I’ll be helping you somehow”.

Grandpa Knowledge couldn’t argue with me anymore, so he quietly accepted my conditions. He knew that changing my wild instinct would be impossible. There was nothing he or anyone, could do about it.

“If that’s what you want, mate… we won’t force you to do anything”, the elder fox added. “But before you turn your back on us and leave, can I invite you for one last thing?”

***

Grandpa’s question made me nervous. Like a broke psychic in my dusty spiritual temple, I could already see what kind of invitation that one would be – promises of a better life, sad stories, exhausting training – nothing that would make me comfortable. That’s why I declined his proposal before any clarification and without thinking twice.

“It’s a pity, mate”, he said, stopping me from leaving. “I was thinking we could all go to a nearby waterfall”, he surprised me. “You know… it would be fun to spend one last day together. After all, you stayed with us and worked hard for a whole week”.

“Nothing better than a well-deserved break, right?”, Thomas added, looking at his brother, waiting for the answer to his rhetorical question.

Actually, there was nothing better - I thought to myself. I had worked so hard lately and in the end I hadn’t won my prize: Annabel. I was broke and couldn’t leave the Tree Den empty-pawed. So I swallowed my pride, left modesty aside, swung my tail, moved my ears and took back my first answer to Grandpa’s invitation.

“Alright, alright”, I surrendered. “Besides, what’s wrong with enjoying a waterfall?”

Happy with my reply (at least apparently), the Tree Den animals went into the woods to find fruits and get ready for our fun day. After that, they went around the area to verify if we were free from any danger – traps, hunters, ghosts – anything that could catch us unexpectedly on the way.

Fortunately, there was nothing. And so, welcomed by the environment, we set off to appreciate the waterfall.

***

To get there we needed to go on a long, tiring hike - seven hundred meters separated us from our desired destiny.

We walked for three hours amid insects, Jurassic trees and many annoying bushes and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impatient with how long we were taking to get there. We walked and walked and, after so many obstacles, it seemed we’d never arrive. How could anyone enjoy this?

Well… Annabel, Grandpa Knowledge, Thomas and Joel were a different story.

Unconcerned with time, they laughed, talked, appreciated Australian nature and had as much fun as a chubby boy at McDonald’s. For that reason I started thinking that the waterfall must be a very special place.

“You’ll be amazed”, Annabel said enthusiastic and, just before getting there, she covered my eyes with her soft paws and made my heart pound so hard I thought it would come out of my mouth. “Wait, Foster… wait until I say you can look”.

When she took her paws off, I opened my eyes and was impressed by what I saw. For a brief moment, I wasn’t able to think of words that could describe that place. It was all so gorgeous, so Australia, so… wow! The crystal waters running on rocks and falling seventeen meters in a pool as natural as the forest we were in. Unquestionably, it was a jaw-dropping picture and certainly the most perfect place I had set my eyes on.

I couldn’t help myself. Still wearing my jeans and plaid shirt, I climbed a small tree that had one of the branches going all the way to the current and jumped in the depths of the pool, feeling adrenaline up my veins.

“What a crazy fox”, I heard one of the rodents say when I jumped. When I came up for air, all the Den animals were already enjoying the strong water current and the harmonious ice-cold temperature.

“Hey, Foster”, Annabel called me, ignoring her other friends and swimming towards me with all her charm. “Didn’t I tell you this place was great? And you want to leave me for your solitary life. What a fool”.

At the end of that sentence, I noticed that something had changed in my relationship with Annabel. We were closer. And to make me even more certain, that spectacular fox came up to me and stared me with those orange eyes just a few centimeters away, leaving me completely breathless. Her sensuality and charm disoriented me.

“I don’t want to leave you”, was all I could say.

Then, before everything was in slow motion, she cut the romantic-corny vibe and we started playing – we held our breath underwater, we challenged each other on who was able to swim deeper and at last, but totally fun, we pushed each other into the water. When we were finally done and exhausted, I knew that was the time. The only chance I’d have to try stealing a kiss. Quick and sudden I approached her and…

Splash! – A huge wave covered us. Frustrated with the uncomfortable atmosphere between me and Annabel, I wanted to know what had happened. Joel and Thomas were doing back flips in the pool from the top of a tree.

“Watch out for the bomb”, they’d shout before executing their Olympic jumps. Afterwards, something like: “BleeeehhohmygodI’mgonnadie!” followed and they fell in the water creating tsunamis directly proportional to their sizes.

Believe it or not, after noticing Annabel’s intimacy I remained quite composed before that natural playground. I wanted to impress her; I wanted to look like a serious animal. Typically, with my impulse and my desire for novelty, all four corners of that waterfall would be explored in thirty seconds if I was alone. Being quiet, only appreciating the fox’s beauty, certainly wasn’t like Foster, the Land Explorer.

“Are you trying to impress someone?”, the question came from behind, scaring me as much as horrible, evil, ghost stories. When I turned to see who it was, Grandpa Knowledge appeared as unexpected as a baseball ball in a rugby match. He definitely loved surprises.

“I don’t know what you mean”, I told him.

“You love freedom, you love unexplored places”, the old fox said, playing a renowned psychologist. “But then you get here, see all this and suppress your instinct, sit still and pretend to be the most peaceful fox in Queensland. It doesn’t make any sense!”

“What do you mean?” I asked him, knowing that my secret had been unveiled.

“You’re a good actor, my friend. Well done”, Grandpa said, giving me hope of winning the Oscar the following year. “But I know the real reason you’re here. I’ve always known”, he paused to roll up the sleeve of his faded overalls. “It’s not for food, shelter, much less to invade Noah Jeferson Wright’s farm. You’re here for Annabel! You can’t hide it from the smart red-skinned old fox”.

I really couldn’t hide it from him. A body language expert – at a much higher level than me – Grandpa Knowledge always knew what was on my mind. Unfortunately, he now knew what my intentions were at that amazing place, with that amazing fox.

“Don’t worry. You’re not going to hell for this”, he reassured me. “Maybe for other reasons, but not for joining us with the purpose of seducing a female”.

Before I could defend myself, Grandpa turned his back to me, went to a nearby rock where he’d left his fruit basket and, after choosing a bunch of grapes, he called Thomas and Joel and said something I couldn’t understand (even though I forced my hearing powers to maximum).

“Hey, Foster! Hey, Annabel!” Thomas shouted, next to his male companions. “We’re going back to the Tree Den to put our things in order. But if you want, you can stay and enjoy the waterfall. Don’t rush… just be careful on the way home, ok?”

Annabel looked at me. I looked at her. We had no idea what was going on. Put things in order? What things? But then, a sudden insight burnt my naivety down and I realized what that was all about.

“Ok”, I maliciously replied, winking at my assistants. “We’ll be careful. Don’t worry”.

Grandpa Knowledge, Thomas and Joel smiled and started on the long way back to the forest, not even waiting for a reaction from Annabel and happy to help an unscrupulous crook like me.

“Foster”, she called. “Don’t you think it’s best if we go with them? I mean… Uh… It can be dangerous to go back by ourselves in the woods. It’s getting dark”.

To transmit safety, I got really close to her, set my tail horizontally, turned my ears outwards and whispered in hers: “You can trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Annabel. I’m a night animal”.

Fortunately, she believed me.

8.

Alone. We were finally alone. Annabel and I, no one else.

With the sounds of the waterfall, water hitting the rocks and the green aroma surrounding us completely, that was the moment I had always pictured in the depths of my mind – a great place, a beautiful female, temporary freedom and pure satisfaction – nothing more, nothing less. No Grandpa Knowledge, rodents or any other intrusive animal. It was only me and my desired prize called Annabel. What else could I wish for?

Our clothes were soaking wet and we were cold under our wet fur, so I got closer and covered her with a blue blanket left by the others. She warmed up and, breathing heavily, looked at me uncertain.

“Foster”, was all she said, with a shaky and undecided voice.

I didn’t care.

I was trying to seem as romantic as possible, after all… Well, it was obvious where I was trying to get with my acts. After we were dry, we lay down on the grass, looked up at the sky and, for a little while we only watched the sun go down before our eyes. From time to time – two to three minutes, to be more specific – we exchanged smiles, looks, but never words. Talking wasn’t necessary. We both knew we had each other’s company and that was the most important thing.

Then, contrary to what I thought, Annabel broke the silence.

“Tell me more about yourself, Foster”, she asked, looking deep into my eyes. “I want to know more about your story, your life, where you came from”.

That made me feel like I was a criminal being interrogated by the police – except, of course, for the lack of donuts and hot coffee on the table – and I didn’t want to confess anything. Open up and share my memories? I’m sorry, but that kind of thing wasn’t for Foster, the Let-me-take-care-of-my-life Fox. Therefore, I only shrugged and kept admiring nature.

“What is it?”, the sweet fox insisted, poking me lightly with her paws. “We’re here alone. There’s no one else around. What’s the problem in answering my question?”

With no way out, I tried to think of a good lie to tell. Unfortunately at that moment, my brain was as relaxed as a retired old man watching mid-afternoon movies on his couch.

“Awn”, was all I could reply, using all my effort and not knowing what that word meant.

“Foster”, Annabel raised her voice. “You made it clear that you’ll fight Noah your way, independent from the Tree Den. You also said that you won’t stay with us and, whenever you feel like, you’ll go on with the life you had before. So now I ask you”, she stared intensely, making me fear what was coming. “What are you doing? What are you looking for?”

Unquestionably, what I was looking for I had found some time ago. There, right in front of me, Annabel asked me questions and the answer was her.

I didn’t answer directly.

In a 60’s seduction move, I gave ferocity to my brown eyes, arched my body over hers, closed her escape space and quickly and furtively kissed her.

But no… that was no ordinary kiss. That was definitely the best kiss in the world. Or better yet, in the universe. From zero to ten, that kiss scored so high my mind wasn’t able to decode. A kiss that shouldn’t be called just that. Surreal and far from everything I knew in my extensive rationale.

Yes, I think now I could be called Foster, the Heart Conqueror Fox.

“It’s you that I want”, I whispered in her alert ears. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I went back to the Tree Den when I met you”.

“But…”, she tried to say. “Foster…”, I kissed her again.

I knew that any imposition at that moment would be a holdback. We were so connected that wasting our hearts beating in harmony would be a crime. Annabel enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. Why holding back?

The answer was clear: Annabel loved obstacles!

She started talking as fast as the drums of a hardcore band, burying me in questions that I didn’t feel like answering.

“What are we going to do when this is all over? You’ll leave and I’ll go back to the Tree Den… What then? What will we do?”, she sounded nervous, probably for letting so many questions eat away her freedom.

“Annabel”, I replied. And yes, that was my only answer. Then, as if it all made sense, I hugged her and pretended everything would be alright. But we both knew how that would end.

Night came, we fell asleep and dreams took over our temporary infinity.

***

I woke up the next day with a fire ball burning my face. Then, after rubbing my eyes, I realized it was the gigantic sun high up in the sky. It

was hot, uncomfortable and in the worst case, cancer on the skin of all humans living on Australian territory.

“It’s very hot today”, I heard Annabel shout from the distance. “It must be forty degrees, more or less”.

She, unlike me, had been up for a while and in all her simplicity, swam gently across the pool formed just below the waterfall.

“You finally woke up”, the female continued. “You sleep like a rock”.

As far as I can remember, I’d never seen a rock sleeping (or even awake). But I didn’t want to go into the subject of solid objects’ REM sleep, so I just nodded and watched her having fun in the pool.

“How is it in there?”, I asked politely, considering the idea of getting my clothes a bit wet.

“Amazingly great”, Annabel replied. “But I’m only going to swim a minute more. After that we can go home”, and before I could complain, she started her rant of ready arguments. “Don’t worry, Foster. I know a much faster way back. We won’t need to take that track all over again”.

And we really didn’t.

Holding paws, the heat of our feelings burning inside, we crossed a large green area where high, multi-colored grass limited our sight in only ten meters.

Along the way we passed by rabbits wearing hats and watches, squirrels in simple clothing and many other animals that, believe it or not, I didn’t feel like devouring. Like a miracle that only Jesus Christ would be able to perform – and believe it, much more complex than changing water into wine – I didn’t think about respecting the rules of my food chain

anymore. In a mysterious way, I could only think of fruits, vegetables or any other lifeless thing that was able to feed me.

“Ann”, I nicknamed the fox without asking for permission. “Do you struggle to keep your diet?”, I asked, curious. “I mean, as far as I know, it’s a basic rule at the Tree Den not to eat animals. How do you do it?”

“It’s easy”, she bragged. “You only need to put yourself in your neighbor’s shoes and have a little bit of ethics. It doesn’t matter if they’re succulent, repulsive or whatever… after all, we’re all living beings. Peace, Foster… peace begins on our plate”.

I felt like the biggest villain of all, the Darth Vader of the animal kingdom. I could only force a smile and listen to Annabel.

On our way back she made a point in telling me all the pros of a vegetarian diet – nutrients, vitamins, minerals – everything I didn’t (and didn’t want to) know. My ears didn’t catch a break. It was so much biology, chemistry and moral issues involved that for a brief moment I visualized my brain counting down for explosion.

Five, four, three, two, one… boom!

Annabel’s voice was silenced.

I opened my eyes, thankful for a bit of quiet. However, as I realized what was going on, well… it would be better if Annabel kept blabbing.

We were back at the Tree Den. But instead of finding beauty and comfort in the green woods, we found smoke, fire and destruction. Everything was in ruins. Trees, burrows and everything that had once meant their lives, was now in flames. Grandpa Knowledge, Thomas and Joel - they were all missing. And there we were, only Annabel and I facing that dramatic situation.

We froze, we didn’t know what to say. We had flown first class, one-way, and straight into hell.

9.

Inexpressive void, overwhelming emotions, intense shock – unfortunately, these were the words that came to my mind when I looked at Annabel. She was totally helpless in the face of what had happened to the Tree Den.

Her body was lifeless, her ears and tail were low and she was clearly not herself. Her expression was morbid, her movements were unnatural and her eyes, that once held an insatiable strength, now gazed at infinity hoping they could find an answer to that suffering.

Obviously, there was none. She then chose the most irresponsible alternative an animal could have at that moment.

Ignoring my presence, Annabel crossed the safe area we were in and ran towards the burrow she had lived for so long. she walked by branches, trunks, leaves and wood chunks on the ground – all in flames – just so she could satisfy the bitterness eating up her chest. In a way I was incapable of understanding, getting to the middle of the forest would solve all the problems she was going through. I couldn’t let that happen, though!

As far as I knew, real life wasn’t like a video game where you can call on password. Annabel wasn’t immortal, wasn’t immune to fire and wasn’t able to revive. It was inevitable: we were in danger under a devastating fire. For that reason, and for caring about another animal’s well-being for the first time in my life, I ran through the smoke to save her.

I coughed and for a moment I could barely see or breathe, but I finally found Annabel standing in front of her burrow.

“Are you insane? Let’s get out of here”, I quickly held her shoulders and led her towards the exit. “There’s nothing we can do here. The Tree Den is gone!”

She ignored me.

A burning piece of Bunya fell from above, like a divine sign to draw our attention. It almost hit Annabel, making her realize the truth of what was happening at the Den.

“Let’s go, Ann! We don’t have much time. If we stay here, we’ll die”, I insisted again until she understood the danger we were in near such fire. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything happen to you… ever!”

She finally gave in to those seductive, reassuring words.

We held paws, looked into each other’s eyes and felt mutual trust. Then, as fast as a Kenyan athlete, we ran away from the burning forest.

We didn’t stop - not even for a brief moment. As if it was mandatory for all the animals who flee their blazing homes, we ran and didn’t look back until we knew we were safe. Even then, we kept a fast pace just in case.

We crossed our familiar boundaries, took a deep breath and then… surprise!

We found an unpaved route nearby, with small trees along the way and poor, rustic signs that indicated which way to go.

I sniffed around carefully to see if there was any threat.

“We’re safe”, Annabel said after her long silence. “The ground is muddy and, as you can see, there are only small animals’ prints around here. We don’t need to worry about humans”, she wisely concluded.

I smiled and lied, so that I wouldn’t look so stupid.

“I wanted to find some fruits. You know how hungry I get after a hike”, she didn’t know. “But, well… let’s move”.

We kept on walking.

Thirty or forty minutes later, we left the dirt road and came across a vast field. There, a small wooden house, probably abandoned for years, was surrounded by high grass and a nice breeze. It wasn’t painted, there was no decoration or any other human fancy stuff, it was like a tree house – except, of course, for the tree – but perfectly comfortable for Annabel. She was desolate after what she’d seen and the exhausting day she’d had and needed to rest.

Curious, we took a peek.

“Knock, knock!”, I said as I knocked on the wooden door. I expected to be welcomed by a sweet lady with a smile on her face, a pie in one hand and a jar of juice in the other. Since that never happened, to my disappointment, I remorseless broke in the little house.

The inside of the house, as one could imagine, was dusty and full of spider webs. There was one window, a lamp (it didn’t work) and a broken chair leaning on the wall. Another important detail is that the house wasn’t divided in rooms. It was a single block – maybe for that reason I couldn’t tell if we were in the living room, bedroom, kitchen or any other conventional part of a human home.

“What a strange place”, I said, while we did the inspection. “This must be where kidnappers bring their victims. Or where they shot scenes for Hitchcock movies”, I added a little laughter that wasn’t reciprocated.

From what I could see, Annabel wasn’t in the mood for my humorous statements. She was right. She looked around anxiously and, as if she was trying to swallow a hedgehog, her face showed a quick, bipolar change of emotions – there were no tears, sadness or even that painful crush on her chest as before. Now, as I observed her, there was only vengeance.

“Noah’s hunters did that”, she said. I could feel anger in her voice and got a bit lost regarding the topic of conversation. “They set fire on the Tree Den. They took Grandpa, Thomas and Joel. I’m sure!”

I wasn’t particularly sure, but I didn’t want to be annoying and contradict her valid arguments. So I got closer, rubbed her back and agreed to her supposition, showing her I was there to help in everything she needed.

“I’ll catch whoever did this”, I stated like a super hero. I wasn’t convinced, since I didn’t have a cape on my back and underwear over my pants. “I’ll find all the animals as well. Relax. Everything will be alright”.

Impatient, Annabel didn’t care about my words. Just by looking at her you could see how she was about to burst, eager to run to Noah’s farm and make justice with her own paws.

“We must go now. We need to save them”, she insisted, talking fast and holding the sides of her yellow dress really tight. “We don’t know how long they’ll survive at that place”.

A clever fox like me, I knew.

Analyzing their ages, it was only logical to say that Grandpa was running out of time. He had trouble walking, sobbed as if a rock was

stuck in his throat and his instincts were clearly not as sharp… Saying he still had many years ahead of him would be an insult to reality.

I made a single comment (that I shouldn’t have).

“Ah! The rodents still have a long life ahead”.

Annabel faced me as if I had thorn Moses’ Ten Commandments.

“I’m not kidding, Foster”, she was serious. “We need to go now”.

And wasting the possibility of spending a night in that wooden house and enjoying a furtive romance, Annabel grabbed my paws, opened the door and pulled me into the woods. We were leaving and… damn it! I hadn’t even profited from the humble home.

Without a choice, Foster was recruited for war.

10.

I don’t know for sure how many farms I’ve invaded in my life. They were so many since I rebelled that even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to tell exactly - Seventy? Eighty? Ninety farms? – I had no clue. If it was something close to those figures, it would be fair to consider Foster a master in the art of invasion.

I am able to walk unnoticed, I’m a born thief and a dare devil. I’m not alive because I’m lucky. After all my violations – very well planned, by the way – the reasons why I was still breathing were two and only two.

Before anything else, to go in and out of a farm without being noticed, you need a thorough study of the place – points of entrance, escape routes, targets, means of protection, etc – If you don’t have that committed to memory, your chances of success are as high as seeing Santa Claus giving out Easter Eggs on Labor Day. Therefore, minding the details is always crucial.

Instinct was the second reason, no doubt about it. Following your heart and keeping your blood pumping are vital details when it comes to property invasion. Never, under no circumstance, logic works on itself. Inner certainty will always be an ally.

Thus, matching observation and intuition perfectly, I can humbly say that I was the best qualified fox to terrorize Noah J. Wright’s properties.

About to attack once again, there was Foster, the Ruthless Vulpes vulpes.

***

Who was I trying to fool?

Saying that Annabel and I were ready to invade Noah’s farm was as wrong as saying that a team of cripples could win the FIFA World Cup.

Zero percent chances, you know? We didn’t have any plans, we weren’t structured and, to make things worse, we weren’t confident enough in our hearts. We were previously defeated foxes that, best case scenario, would escape that situation alive, but never completing the revolt.

What could we do? Give up? Corrupt Australian Special Forces to help us? Dress up as human beings and enter the farm as simple waste collectors?

No! None of that would work! None of those answers would make Foster look more attractive to Annabel’s eyes. I needed to present myself as a highly qualified invader. Therefore, I proudly filled my chest with courage and acted at my best, pretending I was prepared for whatever would come.

“Let’s catch them!”, I told her, buttoning up my plaid shirt with the same confidence a gangster uses to button up his jacket. As I was inspired by that scene, feeling like the fakest avenger of all times, I continued using my catch phrases. “They’ll wish they had never crossed our path, Ann, you can count on that! Really. Noah and his men will have nightmares about us every night… I only pity the housekeepers who will have to change their wet sheets every morning”.

To my surprise, she found my remarks funny and laughed for a couple of seconds. She forgot about what had happened that day – her eyes sparkled, she smiled, her ears stood up and all her grace came back – but then, ten seconds later, reality hit her again and she marched towards the battlefield as if nothing had happened.

With moderately quick steps, not giving room for indecision, Annabel marched focused on the fight. She knew the way to the farm very well – since she had been captured by Noah’s hunters once – so I didn’t bother paying attention to my surroundings. We could be passing by

megalopolis, raging oceans or even planets from other galaxies… I was so absent-minded, for some reason I could only think about locks, screwdrivers and homemade bombs.

“Diesel or gasoline” I thought out loud, not even noticing the words coming out of my mouth. “Whatever. Whatever. Just finish with a glass bottle, an alcohol soaked rag and… boom! Revolution starts and terror takes over the place!”

Scared, Annabel shot me a doubtful look as we walked, probably asking herself why the hell I was saying such weird things. Then, I got real and thought it was best to give her some explanation. After all, I didn’t want to come across as a lunatic, solitary fox who only talks about explosives.

“It’s a recipe we can use at the farm, Ann. It’s simple and will surely make a nice damage to Noah’s property”, I explained. “The name of the bomb is Molotov cocktail. Or, as I like to call it: Mega-Punk-X-Plosion”.

“I like your creativity in naming things”, she said, letting her sense of humor bloom. And, curious, she asked for more information: “Tell me how this bomb works exactly”.

As a good rebel that I am, this was one of my favorite subjects and, undoubtedly, it was a moment I could really brag.

“Well… with a flammable substance and other material I listed, you just need to set fire to the rag and throw the bomb at your target. That way, with the impact, a chemical reaction will occur and the cocktail will explode”, I explained proudly. “It’s a kind of bomb used in protests, urban guerillas and this kind of stuff”.

“Interesting, very interesting”, Annabel said. “I know a place where we can find this material and make the so-called Molotov cocktail. It’s

nearby. It’s a sure thing, Foster”, as she finished her sentence it was clear what her intentions were and how far she was willing to go in order to honor the Tree Den.

No more words were necessary. With a smile on my face, I already had what I needed.

11.

A banana pie, a lighter, some pieces of embroidered cloth, ethyl alcohol, five liters of diesel and at last, but not least, two bottles of Jack Daniel’s – this was what we stole from a modern hippie village located a few kilometers from Noah J. Wright’s farm.

With all the ingredients in hand (except of course for the pie that was in our stomachs), we had to assemble the bombs correctly and follow towards the farm to destroy everything we were against.

And that’s what we did.

From that moment on - prepared and armed with bombs and our instincts - control, oppression and abuse had their days counted. We wouldn’t allow any kind of animal cruelty on that farm, no matter what kind or intensity. Then, with a fixed idea on our minds and bombs in our paws, we were on our way for all or nothing.

“Today is the day”, Annabel shouted as a battle cry. “The big day is finally here!”

We took a deep breath, swung our tails in synch and climbed a hill where we could have a complete view of Noah’s entire property.

“Wow”, was the only thing I could say when I saw the place from up there, not believing my eyes.

As far as I imagined, Noah’s land would fit a house, a hen house and another room for using 1080 on animals. It would be similar to where that evil lady and her rifle lived, you know? However, when I came across that farm – if we can call such a huge thing a farm – my heart and I didn’t know what to do.

The place was, forgive the expression, mega-master-astronomically gigantic. I’m not exaggerating. Noah’s property could easily fit ten airplanes, three ships, four submarines, five hundred mountain bikes and a million other measurable things.

“What a fail”, I said when I could articulate. “We should have made more Molotov cocktails. To burn this place down, I don’t know, I think eight hundred thousand bottles would do”.

Laughing at the face of disgrace, Annabel came closer, held my paws and kissed me. That was unexpected, giving the catastrophic situation we were in. She smiled at me. I smiled at her. We were eager to go from theory to practice, so we didn’t wait any longer. We grabbed our things and went down to the farm.

As we got closer, our senses got more acute – our noses and ears were sharp and our eyes were ready to catch any movement out of the ordinary – and maybe that’s why we started noticing details that were not clear before. Details that we couldn’t see from up the hill.

First, there were several big sheds. They were all built with solid bricks and served as prison to many kinds of animals – they each received a name: beef livestock, wool livestock, swine culture, rabbit breeding and a thousand other “cultures” that identified which animal was being exploited there.

Besides that huge area, I also noticed a white building, where a cement-faced security guard protected the main entrance. It was three floors high; there were a few windows and two flags – Queensland and Australia – flying in front. I had no idea what that place was.

“It’s the lab”, Annabel explained pretty much reading my mind while we both observed the place behind an enormous rock. “That’s our main

target, Foster. That’s where Noah tests the rabbits and rats, stores his chemical products and what’s worse, poisons animals with 1080. Animals like us, red foxes”.

“Mmmm”, I muttered uninterested. For me, there wasn’t main target, secondary target or any other kind of scale for that. What I really wanted was to enter Noah’s farm and destroy everything, the same way a clumsy elephant would in case it entered the Louvre.

Alert and quiet, I refocused on the details. But like an anxious and know-it-all tourist guide, Annabel started talking restlessly and drew my attention, making a point of telling me everything that happened in that lab.

“That’s where Noah’s thugs live” and she pointed at a beige house that kept peculiar traces of British décor. “They must be three living in that house, at most… not enough for a farm this big, don’t you think?!”. Before I could reply and calculate how many employees that farm needed, she started with her fast thinking. “Noah is psychotic, a workaholic. He likes doing everything himself – breeding, hunting, exploiting, killing – he only delegates duties because he can’t do so many things at once. That’s why he has to hire some idiots to do his dirty work”.

“Good thing they’re idiots”, I subtly added. “After all, we would be in big trouble in case they had an I.Q higher than 110”.

“Yeah”, she laughed subtly. “Those idiots made that sign, see?”, she pointed again, this time to the entrance of the farm, where a huge sign glowed golden. “On that sign right there, the name of the farm is written – The Marsupial Farm – isn’t it ridiculous?”

I looked around. I didn’t see any marsupial. For that reason, indeed, it was ridiculous. An overestimated name for an overestimated farm. And then, as soon as I took my eyes off the sign, I found one last building. It spoke for itself and didn’t need Annabel’s explanation.

With vivid blue and white painting, amplitude of 800m², I was certainly facing the headquarters of the Marsupial Farm and the home of Noah J. Wright and his family – and by family I mean Noah himself. No dear ones, ok? As far as Grandpa Knowledge had told me, he was a bitter man and a huge heartless prick who wasn’t able to share his feelings with anyone (the human version of Foster, some would say). So, feeling great apathy for the fact, I thought fast about the strategy we would use to invade his farm.

“Are Noah and his employees robots or androids?”, I asked quickly, hoping for a sensible answer that would shine some light. However, since all I got was an uncertain look and a doubtful silence, I continued talking, showing my humorous point of view. “Well… if they’re robots, we won’t have a problem in stopping them. Now, if they’re androids…”

Annabel apparently didn’t see where I was going. Uninterested in my allegoric humor, she slapped my shoulder, gave me a serious look and commanded I stopped joking for a while. Intimidated, I had no other choice. Then, as soon as I quieted down, Ann approached me in a military tone.

“Every worker in this farm is made of flesh and blood. They’re 100% human”, she explained. “They get up, eat, work, rest… and because of that, for being so imperfect, we have a chance in finishing them off!”

“But now that I think about it, to destroy androids we only needed a bucket of water to cause a complete short-circuit…”

She didn’t let me finish. Covering my mouth with her paws, Annabel showed she didn’t want to hear my ingenious gibberish anymore. Instead, with all her sagacity, she slowly outlined the plan she had in mind.

“Foster, the Marsupial Farm, as you see, is too big to be destroyed by two red foxes. What I think we should do before anything is freeing the animals from the sheds and urge them to revolt. Make them feel dissatisfied. Make them hate Noah Jeferson Wright”.

I nodded. After all, who was I to disagree?

“The only problem is how we’ll get to the sheds unnoticed”, Annabel went on.

“Even though there are few security guards and few hunters, Noah has electronic systems that identify the presence of any intruder on his land. He has cameras, sensory alarms… he knows everything that happens around here. Top to bottom, end to end”.

I asked myself what the difference between top and bottom of a property was but couldn’t come to a conclusion. So I resumed my train of thoughts and had an idea that, throughout the story, would be very important. A new plan, a new front of attack. Suddenly, in my mind I knew exactly how we would invade the Marsupial Farm and what we would do to destroy it.

Eureka! A round of applause for Foster, the Beautiful Mind Fox.

12.

“It’ll be like good old times”, I started telling Ann, proceeding with the plan I had in mind. “First, I’m going in the Marsupial Farm alone, nothing new there. Then, Noah and his hunters will notice my intrusion, they’ll come to stop me and I’ll destroy all of them. It can’t go wrong!”

“It can’t go wrong?”, she questioned, as I thought she would. “And when do I come in?”

“Well… you can make me an espresso in the meantime”, I joked. The way she looked at me made me feel like a garbage-eating animal. I quit. “Ann… when all the attention is on me, I’ll make a sound and call you. Then, at the right time, you can go in unnoticed and free all the animals who are prisoners in those sheds. You must do all that without letting Noah and his men notice”.

She smiled, agreeing with what I had planned. Finally, we were ready.

“Wow, wow, wow – this will be our sign”, I explained. “As soon as you hear this, you know what you have to do. Are we clear?”

“Yes, we are. But be careful”, she was confident but tearful. And instead of handing me a bullet-proof vest, Annabel held my paws, kissed the side of my mouth one more time and said something that obviously didn’t calm me down. “I love you, Foster. I love you; I’m so in love with you. Please, take care and come back alive!”

I was shocked.

Unable to say anything, I strained my facial expressions and tried to fake the best smile to seem relaxed. However, if I could see myself at that moment, I’m sure my face would be just like a clown who entered a funeral thinking it was a surprise party. Total disaster! Anything that

involved love wasn’t adequate for me, wasn’t for my ice-cold heart. Aware of my nerves and my lack of feelings, the best I could do was to remain silent, wave Annabel a sincere goodbye and jump over the high fence of the Marsupial Farm.

I had my plaid shirt all buttoned up and my jeans rolled up to my knees and tried not to think of Annabel while I invaded. It was best to be 100% focused. So, I entered the farm with a delinquent expression and followed my heart, holding two Molotov cocktails – a disturbing image for such an organized farm, one could say – and for that reason it didn’t take long until two hunters appeared, eager to stop me from doing whatever I was going to do and also, to take my precious red fur to the black market.

The first hunter I saw didn’t do any justice to his profession. Fair hair, pale skin, tall and skinny, he would do better as a real estate agent on the Golden Coast. On the other hand, the second man was the perfect picture of a brutal, merciless hunter – long beard, thinning hair, tall and visibly overweight.

I wasn’t afraid!

When I saw them coming out of the beige house, cruel futuristic rifle in hand, I knew I had to act fast. Thus, in a swift and unprepared impulse, I fired the Molotov cocktails, walked a little closer to them and threw the bombs.

The result was surprising: total fail!

The first bomb didn’t even explode, probably because Annabel and I prepared it in a hurry. The second one, nonetheless, was affected by gravity and fell five meters away from my targets. Conclusion: in less

than two minutes at the Marsupial Farm, I had run out of weapons. A great loss for Foster, the Negligent Fox.

“How foolish”, I heard the skinny hunter tell his accomplice. “And animals still think they have the right to be free. It’s a joke”, and he put the bullets in his gun as he spoke.

Irritated and full of hatred, I couldn’t forgive such a low comment. He could even doubt some animals’ capacities… but question Foster’s impressive abilities? There was no redemption for such an act. So, with all my craft, I ran to them quickly and bit their restless legs – all that before they could cock their rifles and find me.

Darkness was intense at that time of night; there were no traces of light. I acted sudden and unexpected and the hunters weren’t able to follow my moves, even if they tried hard. Like a bright red shape – that was probably what they saw – I ran around and under their legs with ease and before they could aim their rifles at me I was biting and scratching every vulnerable part.

Five minutes later, both men were hurt on the ground, crying for the pain they were feeling – embarrassing. Their bodies were scraped, their clothes covered in blood and their souls… well, probably sorry for meeting Foster, the Hunter’s Tormentor. I looked at them with disdain and couldn’t help myself.

“How foolish… and humans still think they can rule over animals. It’s a joke!”

“And can’t we?” a voice coming from behind caught me by surprise, mocking me some ten meters away.

I was interested in replying with irony, so I turned to the voice to see who my next opponent would be. And there he was.

He had the generic businessman appearance, the famous and despicable Noah Jeferson Wright. His gray hair was properly combed, he wore fine clothes and his shoes outshined the diamonds of Sierra Leone. He stared at me calmly, breathing slowly and thinking I was just another intruder about to be seized.

“My friend”, he said as he walked calmly towards me, as if I wasn’t a threatening wild animal. “I see you’ve done a great job in defeating my men, huh?!”, he expected a reply that never came, because I didn’t feel like it. He continued. “Very well… Congratulations on your attitude and on your courage, but I must inform you that no animal will destroy the work I’ve been doing here – farming, scientific tests and 1080 propagation – my dear fellow, all this work is carried out for the greater good of the Australian nation. Don’t try to stop it!”

As he was paying close attention to me, staring firmly with his blue eyes and articulating all his diverse words, I thought it would be a good chance to call Annabel and have her carry out our plan. After all, the most important eyes on that land were turned to the amazing Foster, and that wasn’t something to be wasted. I didn’t wait any longer to send the sign.

“Wow, wow, wow”, I called, exactly as we had planned. As I did that, Noah laughed.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”, he asked and I nodded automatically. He didn’t mind. He just went on talking. “There’s no point. It’s no use. When you’re thinking, I already know. I may have only a few employees, but my technology is extensive. My knowledge is vast. I don’t want to discredit my men, but I’m the best security guard, the best hunter and even the best cook in the Marsupial Farm”, at that moment I almost asked for an omelet. I kept listening, though, not to be

inconvenient. “My eyes are like eagles’ eyes and I see everything that goes on around me. Including you, my dear fox, I know exactly what goes on in your mind”

As soon as Noah finished his speech, the cement-face security guard – the one who guarded the lab – came from the dark with a terrible smile, holding a silver cage in his hands.

Captive and unconscious, there was Annabel in the cage.

“I bet she’s your girlfriend”, he guessed. “And I bet the rats and the old fox we caught in the forest are your little friends as well, aren’t they?!”

“Actually, I only know them from the casino”, I joked even though I had no reasons for that amid that situation. “They lent me money for blackjack but I ended up losing everything. I’m a disaster at gambling”.

“Well, then”, he continued, not very interested in my good spirits. “As you may or may not know, the government of Queensland pays me to do the greater good. And this greater good, my dear fox, is protecting the native species of this wonderful and extraordinary country. Foxes, dingoes, wild dogs and a bunch of other animals… all of them are a threat and must be given the 1080 poison and be eliminated. Only then we’ll have absolute control. Only then Australia’s natives will grow, do you understand? It’s a task of peace and order that will be carried out undoubtedly, my friend”. He changed his tone to frighten me. “We’ll catch you in a few seconds, take you to the lab and then, with the other wild animals, you’ll be given a lethal dose of 1080. You can’t stop us”.

Noah spoke with so much conviction that, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to contradict him. His arguments were so valid and solid that my only way out was nodding, lowering my ears and facing the cruel fate that awaited me and the Tree Den residents.

However, that was not what I did.

I can’t deny it was an impulsive act, combined with certain despair: I ran fast and hit the guard who had Annabel in a metal cage. I gritted my teeth and my heart raced. It was all or nothing. It was hurting him to save the sweet fox or being captured and subdued by the bastards.

From the two options, the worst happened.

As if he already expected my explosive rebellion, Noah pulled out a stun gun from his pockets and shot the electrodes at me, only hitting my charming blue plaid shirt. Even though it didn’t touch my skin directly, only the fabric, the electric discharge was so strong that I thought I was being punished by Zeus and his unforgiving lightning. My body was paralyzed, I was hard like a rock and, merciless, the pain bound me like a sailor’s knot.

13.

I hate electric discharge. I hate it more than anything. I really do.

For a fox like me, whose main hobby had always been invading farms, stealing chicken and causing disarray, I can assure I had had a lot of trouble with electric fences, shocks and things like that. Big trouble, by the way. It was shock after shock just so I could indulge my rebellious desires. So far, everything as expected. In addition to that, how could I imagine that for saving Annabel I would have to face the worst electricity of my life?

Well. As I set off to free Ann from the cage and Noah shot the electrodes at me, my fox senses were completely damaged – my hearing was crappy, my vision was blurred and my head spun like a chopper propeller – all I could see were distorted images and hear unintelligible words. It was a horrible feeling that, to make things worse wouldn’t let me pay attention to anything that happened around me.

I really hate electric discharge!

Only after being disoriented for a long time – thirty seconds, more or less – I started coming back to my Vulpes vulpes senses and heard something that made me very uncomfortable.

“We’ll take him to the solitary, Mr. Wright”, suggested Cement Boy. He probably looked like he would do better in between two bricks.

Right after that psychiatric sentence, I felt a rough hand pulling my tail and, disrespecting every basic rule of how to handle animals, he dragged me to a large bright room that wasn’t Starbucks, unfortunately.

When I recovered completely – that means I could see and hear well – I noticed we had entered the lab Annabel had warned me about (at least it

could be assumed by the sign: Welcome to the Laboratory and Research Center of Queensland). That was the place where animals were tested, poisoned and killed by the 1080 effects. That was the place that, according to the sexiest fox in Australia, was our primary target.

I blinked and swallowed hard.

First, we went through the reception and, as far as I could see, it didn’t scare me as I thought it would. It was simple, badly organized, with no details. There was a chandelier, two blue sofas, a fancy wooden table, a computer and, sadly, several ugly paintings hanging on the walls – terrible artistic taste. For the last one, I couldn’t help myself.

“I recommend you buy some pieces by Arthur Boyd”, I broke the ice between me and Noah, who still dragged me merciless across the room. “For what I know, he was Australian and belonged to a group of painters in Melbourne. His art would give this room a touch of…”, I made a nerd face to impress him. “Patriotism. Yes… patriotism is the right word”.

Unfortunately, he didn’t care for my decoration tips. He only got angry and cruel and together with his ceramic guard, he kept on kicking my ribs.

“That’s for being a smart-ass”, said the guard, playing the biggest bootlicker on Earth and still carrying unconscious Annabel in a cage. “You’ll go straight to solitary and tomorrow morning, first thing, you’ll feel the pain of the 1080”.

“Damn it”, I honestly said. “I was already starting to enjoy the shocks”.

Noah and his guard didn’t reply. They’d lost their patience with me. In a rush, as if they were going to miss biology class, they took me through a brown door, walked all the way down a long corridor and there they

threw me in a small dark cell, locked with so many keys I doubted they knew which one was which.

“See you tomorrow, my dear fox”, Noah had an evil smile as he spoke. He was tired of dealing with me, so he disappeared through a door on the left, as fast as an arrow.

Cement man, unlike his boss, preferred setting Annabel’s cage on the side, sitting on the floor to observe me and to laugh at me for being captured, as if that had been the funniest thing of the year. He came closer, looked me in the eyes and mocked.

“We’ll make a lot of money with your fur, little fox. Yours and your girlfriend’s too”, he looked at Annabel. “After all, walking around wearing a dead animal is much fancier. Synthetics are old-fashioned”.

I almost replied that old-fashioned was being ugly like him. Or that the new trend was sand-face and not cement. But I couldn’t wait any longer – I furtively moved my tail and acted as I always had.

Noah’s guard was distracted as he got up, took Annabel and disappeared through the same door as Noah had, leaving me alone.

Alone with a bunch of keys that were going to free me. I could be the best thief in Oz, even while captive.

***

Forty minutes later, after trying several keys one after the other, I could finally open the locks and get out of that tiny cell. The door opened, I fixed my shirt and embraced freedom with a racing heart.

“Time for chaos”, I couldn’t help but telling myself, satisfied after forty damned minutes of failed attempts.

I didn’t wait any longer. I followed my instincts and went to the same door Noah and his guard had disappeared. The doorknob was high, it was made of iron and I knew I would have to jump and use all my strength to open it. I didn’t hesitate. In the end, as expected, I succeeded and went on with my destructive desire.

That door opened to a large, narrow path that led to another metal door and the message: Authorized Personnel Only. For that reason, righteous as I am, I searched my pockets for my credentials.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find anything, not even a simple certificate that proved my professional qualification. So, carefully, I looked left and right and in a completely unethical act I decided to break the rules that time. That time only.

I opened the door and went in. My heart froze.

The Authorized Personnel Only room was cruel, tense and, no doubt about it, terribly frightening. There were hundreds of cages and each one had an animal inside – rabbits, cats, wild dogs, dingoes. All of them in simple orange clothing and horrible health conditions. Imprisoned, their eyes could see death approaching.

“Foster”, I heard someone call from the distance. I looked. It was Joel, the rat with a scar above his eye. “You’re alive, Foster. I’m glad to know that. Where is Annabel?”, he jabbered giving me no chance to answer.

“I’m not Foster, I’m just his clone”, I joked but got serious again. “Mmmm… ok… it’s me. But Joel, they’ve got Ann; she’s unconscious in a cell. Do you think…?”

“They gave her tranquilizers”, he replied. “You have to act quickly. Can you take me out of here?”

If I had some explosives, I’m sure I could take him out of there. However, such reality was far from me, so I shook my head and apologized.

“The keys I have are useless. All the cages are locked electronically”, I said, even though he already knew that relevant detail.

Before I could explain the pros and cons of electronic systems, covering fundamental concepts and theories, Grandpa Knowledge hit the cage with his walking stick to draw my attention. It was the first time I saw him nervous.

“Foster, what are you doing standing there? Go save Annabel, mate! We don’t know what those irrational people are doing to her”.

Grandpa Knowledge, as well as the other rat Thomas, was in a cage close to Joel’s. I couldn’t locate the other Tree Den residents because the place was huge and full of animals all around. I couldn’t even stay, chat or maybe teach them how to make a delicious cappuccino with my elder friend rushing me like that.

“Ok, ok”, I quickly replied, already on my way out of the animal prison.

Sadly, the first thing I saw as I left through the front door wasn’t very comforting.

Standing in front of me, with hatred and revenge in their eyes, were Noah and his three thugs – including the real estate agent and the brutal hunter I had defeated earlier. They all stared at me with grinding teeth and carried automatic guns that could do great damage to my nice body.

“Oops! It looks like I’m in trouble”.

14.

Noah J. Wright’s heavy artillery didn’t hesitate. When the hunters saw me free and rebellious around the lab, they didn’t think twice before cocking their guns and shooting at my direction. They were impetuous and rude. They didn’t even ask what my last words would be before dying (a hypocritical cliché, but really necessary in case you want to have manners and be classy as you kill someone).

I wasn’t happy. Acting defensively – that was the only way I wouldn’t turn into vulture food – I jumped behind a table and hoped the shots wouldn’t go through my security shield.

Luckily, they didn’t.

Then, when the noise stopped and the hunters calmed down, I didn’t think twice and ran as fast as a red fox was able to. I crossed the distance between my enemies and I and when I was close enough to bite them with my sharp teeth, they started firing again.

The real estate agent and Mr. Cement were a terrible shot – it was clear by their stereotypes – and because of that, I asked myself what reason Noah could have for hiring them. They weren’t qualified and their shots only hit the ceiling, the light bulbs and, at best, the wall right behind me. Therefore, I wasn’t concerned with that threat.

The bearded hunter and Noah, on the other hand, were precise and waited for the right moment to fire. They calculated my speed, my moves and at the right moment, the right second, they fired merciless in order to stop me. Luckily, I was faster and got away from all those bullets, doing well on my act. And then, when I was ready to attack their legs and cause relatively big damage…

Bang! – A bullet grazed my leg, tore my pants and my skin. It was nothing. Nothing that called for a hospital or a compatible blood donor. But it made me limp and considerably slower and in a duel like that, it could be crucial.

“Cease fire”, Noah ordered his subordinates. And they stopped.

The owner of the Marsupial Farm walked up to me calmly and, noticing I was moderately invalid, kneeled next to me, looked deep into my eyes and stuck his gun on my head.

“Are you afraid of dying?”, he asked confident. “It looks like you’re afraid right now”.

“It’s just indigestion.”, I said, thinking that was a fitting answer. “I ate a bad burger last night”.

He laughed at my statement ironically, meaning that I was in big trouble for my little jokes and, if I kept doing that, he’d rip my heart out and fry it with his bacon and eggs for breakfast.

“My dear fox”, he touched my fur, not moving his gun. “You don’t understand the gravity of the situation you’re trying to put us in, do you?”

I shook my head but the expression on my face probably irritated him.

“Very well”, he pressed his hand on my mouth, not giving me a chance to explain myself. “I want something to be very clear to you: We – human beings – own the world. There’s no point in you coming here and trying to ruin my work, saving your little animal friends… It won’t work! I have technology, knowledge and weapons and that’s enough to stop your pointless invasion”.

I listened, simply because it was the only thing I could do.

“You may be rational beings. You may wear clothes, act and even think like humans, but that will never make you superior. Never! The truth, my friend, is that you mirror us. And without a mirror, tell me how you would see the reflection?”

I was already lost in conversation. And even if I wanted to answer the question and persuade them about mirrors and reflection, I couldn’t. My mouth was brutally covered by Noah’s hand and I’d never learned sign language. For that reason, I stood still.

“Let me show you something”, Noah proceeded impatient. Without another word, he lifted me up by my shirt and took me somewhere new, followed by his stupid guards.

To get there, we had to go through a room with boards and statistics, go up spiral stairs, walk along a wide corridor and finally go through an expensive electronic door. When we were done with that whole procedure, I blinked hard once again and was impressed with what I saw.

The place we’d just entered looked like Futurama, not making justice to the time we lived in. It was exceptional – there were high tech computers, several shelves full of beakers and samples and machines I had no idea what they were for.

Now, apart from all that, what really caught my attention wasn’t technological. Quite on the contrary, it was a white stretcher, with wheels and many buckles to tie down animals like…

Annabel!

Yes! There she was. Tied to the stretcher, breathing slowly and not showing any sign that she would open her eyes any time soon. With her

yellow dress, she was the Sleeping Beauty – Fox Version of our time. As I watched that uncomfortable scene, I didn’t look away.

“What have you done to her?”, I yelled at Noah while he still held me by my shirt and smiled at his guards. “Let me go! Let me go right now, you countryside Hitler”.

Obviously, he didn’t let me go. He contained my impulsive movement, turned me to face him and said the words I didn’t want to hear.

“The first victim of 1080 will be the female fox”, he looked at Annabel and laughed, emphasizing the cruelty of his words. “And you, my dear fox, will watch her death from the front row. Because you think you’re very smart and… ah! Because I don’t like you”.

Before I could answer sarcastically, the three hunters held me – my arms, my legs and, just in case, the last one immobilized my elegant tail – leaving me no way out.

Calmly, Noah and his shiny shoes walked to the closest shelf and with the help of a tiny key, he opened a drawer and took a red syringe that probably contained a very deadly liquid.

“Watch, your dumb fox”, said the real estate agent. Surprisingly, he didn’t address the appreciation of apartments in the coastal areas of Queensland.

Noah flicked the syringe, went up to Annabel and like a ridiculous actor in predictable scenes, he lifted his hand and started counting down for the injection.

“Three, two, one, and…”

“Wait”, I shouted, stopping him from injecting the poison.

Noah stared at me, expecting I would give him a good reason not to poison Annabel – perhaps because she was a pretty fox, or the fact that it would be much more interesting to watch an NBA game – But strangely enough, I couldn’t find any. I was silent like a mimicker. And then I noticed I had all eyes on me. I bit Cement man’s arm, hit the other two and freed myself.

Paws on the ground again, the only thing that crossed my mind was going after Noah and saving Ann from that morbid fate. I forgot about my wounded leg, ran, shortened the distance between us and before he could think of defending himself, I had already jumped on him with all my fury.

We went down after the impact and the 1080 poison flew away, falling close to a computer. I didn’t know if that poison was efficient in machines as well, so I only cared about stopping Noah.

As we wrestled I heard the sound of guns being cocked. Of all sounds I could hear, this was certainly one of the ten worst. I didn’t feel like being shot again so soon. But they were probably afraid of missing their target and shooting their boss, so the morons chose to fight with their hands instead of their guns.

Then it was four against one. Noah J. Wright against Foster, the Fearless Fighter.

I didn’t let it lie.

Using all my agility, I got out of that pile of human bodies surrounding me and ran away. I reached the computer, took the syringe with 1080 with my mouth, passed the three men again and jumped on Noah. I held on to his back and pointed the poison at his neck.

“Freeze”, I ordered the farm workers, feeling like a cop from the Beastie Boys’ video clip Sabotage. “Do not move or I’ll kill your boss”.

I felt Noah tense his neck, not allowing his body to move. His staff, also desperate, looked at me in terror and tried to imagine what they could do to save the owner of the Marsupial Farm (and at the end, obviously and hopefully, get a raise).

But I knew… they couldn’t stop me anymore. From that moment on, Foster made the rules.

“First of all, I want you to untie the fox on the stretcher”, I ordered the most brutal hunter and looked at Ann. “Then, I want you to open all the cages downstairs. Foxes, rabbits, rats… I want them all free!”

They looked at Noah. He probably looked back at them. Not knowing what to answer, they simply didn’t say anything. They only thought of how the situation had ended up in Foster’s hands. Then, to speed things up and show them I wasn’t kidding, I scratched Noah’s neck with the needle and a thin blood drop ran to his shirt collar.

“Do as he says”, Noah gave in, shakily commanding his men. “Untie the fox and free the other animals”, he then moved his neck away from the needle. “Go! Move!”

In a matter of seconds, all my requests were met – the brutal hunter carefully freed Ann, Cement man opened the cages downstairs and the skinny hunter, not knowing what to do simply didn’t do anything – and as soon as things were done my way, I took Noah to an adjoining compartment, grabbed a rope and suggested:

“How about I tie you guys?”

I didn’t give them time to reply. Before they could think of anything to say, I was already wrapping them around a center pillar. I quickly passed the rope around their legs, arms and stomachs, making sure they wouldn’t leave anytime soon.

“There”, Noah yelled angry, showing me that even a classy man can be loud and rude sometimes. “Now you’re free. You caught us. Take your animal friends and get out of my farm”.

“Ok”, I humbly replied. “But first…”

I didn’t say anything else. I left it for his imagination. Or better yet, for his eyes to see what would happen with the Marsupial farm from then on. Then came the most fun part of the day – the reason why I had joined the Tree Den – I ran happily around the place and chose the spot where I’d start my vandalism.

“The shelves”, I told myself, wagging my tail and twisting my ears.

I went over there amid desperate screams and heavy curses coming from Noah and his men. I knocked down everything I found – poison samples, unidentified liquids, pipettes, lab material – I left no whole bottle to tell the tale. It was total destruction. Computers and machines as well… I admit I felt sorry for what I did to those objects. With flammable material and a simple match, I burned all that high technology as if it was cardboard paper. When I was done I watched Noah’s pain, took Annabel in my arms and said:

“I’m done here, guys. It was fun hanging out with you”, and I winked.

Not wasting my time anymore, I left through the same electronic door, went down the same spiral stairs and, retracing my steps, I went back to the shed where the animals were kept in metal cages.

As soon as I got there I found Grandpa Knowledge, Thomas, Joel and a legion of animals of different species. They were finally free and in a way very grateful to me for saving their lives and bringing that farm to ruins. I looked at them. They looked at me. They smiled and hugged me – that bothered me a little, I confess – and amid all that I heard the sweet voice of hope, so quiet that caught my attention.

“You did it. You’re awesome, Foster”.

It was Annabel speaking, finally back to her normal state of consciousness and ready to see her dream coming true. As she longed for, the Marsupial Farm had been destroyed. That would no longer be a place of exploitation and oppression against animals. I... well, I had given her this gift.

Proud, Ann held on to my wrinkled shirt, brought her face closer to mine and, in front of all the animals in that farm, gave me such an amazing kiss that made me forget about destruction, rebellion and revolt. A kiss, just… Wow! It was unusual but I felt butterflies in my stomach, my heart racing and… my God! Had Foster found love?

I trembled.

My legs wobbled and my paws wouldn’t stay still. It was a strange thought that, somehow, my heart was able to be warm and in peace. How could that happen? How could it be so vulnerable to a female? Was that really me? Foster?

It made no sense. I couldn’t believe that.

Then, as soon as Annabel and I left the Marsupial Farm – holding paws and hearts united – I looked at her uncertain and thought if what I was about to do was right. She turned and somehow she knew exactly what

was going on in my mind. So she smiled and knew everything would be alright.

In an impulsive act, I said the words:

“I love you, Ann! I really do”.

Then, before I converted to the United Animals Society and had a boring monotonous life, I let go of her paws, turned my back to her and left towards the Australian horizon. I didn’t look back. I didn’t face Annabel’s eyes. Disappearing in the forest I knew:

I can quit all my addictions. Except the pursuit of solitude.